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msookyspooky · 2 years

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Terrible Trilogy

Part 16

wordcount: 6,567

You stayed in the passenger seat as Randy turned his car off. Staring in dismay at the vehicle parked in the driveway. No, you didn't get a clear look at it that night; entirely too busy trying to stay alive on the road… You weren't an expert on cars but this black SUV had a giant dent in the front bumper where it possibly rammed your car. That's all you needed to connect the dots.

"Hey, everything alright?"

You nodded as you forced yourself to glance at Randy. You wanted to tell him but he would worry himself sick if he knew and considering this killer had so much leverage on you; you were half scared to rock the boat and tell anyone anything.

Deja vu was hitting you like a ton of bricks as he stood outside the car leaning down to stare at you. Once again, you couldn't tell him what was wrong right outside a house party. You felt an uneasy crippling fear well up in you. Fearful the killer was here tonight and you were being lured into a trap with Randy once again. And just like before, you weren't able to tell him why you were so freaked out.

His eyes darted to where you were looking at the car. He had his own concern painted on his face.

"YN…What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Cut the crap. You suck at lying. " He looked at you and then the car you couldn't help staring at. He ran a hand through his hair that was trying to fall in front of his face. "...Is there something going on, like, are we gonna be shish kabobs tonight? Cause I REALLY think I have the right to know that."

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek; not sure what to tell him. "Ray…I just have a feeling the murderer is someone closer than we think…Maybe even here…Do you think it's crazy if I think the killer is someone we know?"

His eyes lit up as he hissed under his breath to you. "No, that's a rule! It's one of the fundamental parts of all this; it's always someone you know! How convenient this killer gives you a note through Dewey's letter or that we all got invited to Stab at the same time."

"And now…We all got invited to a party."

His face fell. "...Shit." He smacked his forehead. "Oh my fucking God, how did I not see that?!"

You swallowed, trying to keep calm.

"And Jennifer invited us all…"

"You're absolutely right…Okay-" Randy huffed and leaned against the car to speak low to you. "This is how I see it. It's either the visionary of Stab which is Roman… Or someone close to Dewey."

"...Like, Gale or Jennifer?"

"Bullseye!" He hissed while staring at you intently as you sat in the car still.

You made a face. "I thought you said girls weren't capable of that? Hhmm?"

He paused a moment before a smirk pulled at his lips. He rolled his eyes with a snort of amusement. "You remember that? I was just trying to get on your nerves. Teenagers."

"Asshole teenagers." You countered.

He continued. "I mean, Hello? Pamela Voorhees was a terrific serial killer!…Besides, Stu was the firm believer of that, not me."

You huffed at that as Randy pointed, his voice raising in excitement even as he tried to whisper. "How do we know it's not lil Miss Weathers eager to get her name back in people's minds as the woman that single handedly took down Ghostface while actually being Ghostface…And with that note you got, she very well could be trying to put the heat onto you."

You sat up. "...For real?...So, you think she could do that? That she might try and piece um…Make believe pictures or scenarios together to frame me? Like, me being someplace else or with suspects or something?"

Randy shrugged with one arm on the car door frame as he gazed at you inside. "I never said photos, but sure. Why wouldn't she? Photoshop exists…I mean, remember those circulating photos of Gale naked someone photoshopped her head on…So she claims." He smirked down at you with a wink before continuing.

"She's an opportunist, YN. You and her have had beef and you winning in court pissed her off even more. You were the catalyst to her and Dewey's failed relationship plus her name being tarnished. She's livid, she wants revenge. She'll do anything to prove her original claim against you was true. Even if it means trying to photoshop you with…I don't know, the victims. In a Ghostface costume. Hell, even with Billy and Stu or guys that look like them. Que the fake bloody knife and your face on someone else's body. She'd do it if she found someone that was good enough at photoshop. These older judges and boomer jury members barely know how to open Internet Explorer, so what's stopping them from believing the photos even if they're fake when they have evidence against you?" He gave with an eye roll.

"Wow, um… You really thought this through." You swallowed and Randy shrugged.

"Eh, watch enough movies and you can easily map out plots…Gale will do anything for her career and what better way to restore the Gale Weathers brand name than to make it look like her original claim was right all along and you're a killer?…I don't know if she'd try to sell the obviously dead Billy and Stu thing but it's an example-"

You felt your eyes widen…There was hope. It was slim, but there was hope as long as Billy and Stu weren't caught and you weren't caught with them.

You got out of the car to go around the side to talk to him. He looked at you in surprise at whatever expression you had as you hugged him.

He hesitantly patted your back before gently pushing you away to look at you as you let go. Eyes burning as his eyebrows shot up in concern. "...YN, are you alright? I'm just surmising and running my mouth…Okay?" He asked as you sighed and shook your head.

"I'm okay…Well not really but I'm trying to be…Ray, there's so much. God, there's so much." You mumbled.

He sighed and looked down at his shoes a moment as he spoke. "You know you can talk about anything with me. I swear, I'll never doubt you like I did at Windsor…It pains me to say it but you're right; we're in a Trilogy here. "

"I just…" You trailed off. " I think this Ghostface is different….I don't know but I really think we need to be on high alert tonight."

"They always are in Trilogy's." Randy listed off his fingers. "So as far as prime suspects, we have: Roman, Gale or-"

A booming voice interrupted you both. "What seems to be the problem here?"

You both jumped out of your skin as a deep voice cut into your conversation. You both looked over to a broad man with slicked back hair in a gray blazer.

"The entrance to Miss Jolie's house is over there, kiddos." He mumbled, folding his arms and eyeing you both.

You moved away so Randy could close his door. "We were just talking."

"Well now you can talk inside. Chilly Autumn air, you could catch your death out here." He gave.

Randy and you exchanged glances before he cleared his throat. "And you are?"

The man walked up to you both, getting behind to shove you both towards the home. "Stone. Jennifer Jolie's personal bodyguard. And you must be Dew Drop's little entourage from that rinky dink town, Woodsboro."

You gasped as you felt his big hands shoving you and Randy forward in the back.

You stumbled as he shoved you and Randy stumbled as well, wincing while he tried to catch himself. You gritted your teeth as Randy gave you a pleading look to keep quiet.

"Do not shove me or my friend like that."

Stone made an amused 'ooh' face as Randy gave you a warning look. You clenched your fist as Stone gave you a cocky expression. "Do you treat celebrities like that?"

"No, but you're not exactly star status, are you sweetheart?"

"And you're just a bodyguard for prissy-"

You felt your arm get jerked as Randy glared at you. "YN, stop antagonizing…We are here for a 'party' okay?" Randy hissed into your ear before raising his eyebrows at you. Stone just eyed you both with his head back and his arms folded.

You felt your upper lip raise in disdain…Maybe hanging out with two murderers that stabbed first and talked later was rubbing off on you because all you wanted to do was kick Stone right in his Stones as many times as you could.

Stone raised a brow at you. "Are you gonna give me trouble?"

Randy answered for you. "No Sir, no trouble here! Just talking in the driveway before going in."

'As if it's a crime.' You grumbled in your mind. Your face falling at the word crime as your eyes darted to the car once more.

Despite your anger, you rolled your lips feeling it was now or never. "...What car model is that?" You pointed to the very one with the dent.

Stone looked over with a smirk. "Now what would a little girl like you know about cars?"

You forced a tight smile to look at him. Trying to remember what Billy suggested the car was that night. "Nothing but I really like that car. So, what model is it?...A Durango perhaps? Or?"

Stone smirked, humoring you as he led you both to the vehicle instead. Randy gave you a bewildered look as Stone smoothed his hand over the hood.

"Do you see a Dodge emblem?" He laughed out.

"Um...No?"

"Then it's not a Durango." He gave you a mocking smirk. "This little Lady is a 1999 Lincoln Navigator. 300 horsepower paired with a V8 engine. It can go from 0 to 60 in 10.2 seconds."

Randy acted intrigued, nodding his head. "Uh wow…Nice."

"I don't expect a guy like you to be into things like cars. Might get your hands dirty, buttercup. Let me guess, video games and blow up girlfriends?"

Randy gave him a forced smile even if it didn't reach his eyes. A dark, angry look in his gaze he barely concealed. "Movies and model girlfriends, actually."

"Riigghhttt." Stone snorted as you eyed the car.

Stone started walking away and whistled with a hand motion for you and Randy to follow. It was a hand motion you would use to call Cherri as if you both were dogs.

You glared at the back of his head. "Well, how did it get a dent? It's pretty freaking huge! Almost…Like you rammed something on purpose." You drew out, eyeing Stone as he laughed.

"Yeah, it's called a deer. It accidentally became a piece on my mantle a week ago. Need to get it fixed but with my salary I might just get it exchanged for a newer model."

You had to question the 'accidental' part.

Randy huffed. "A mule deer weighs enough to do that much damage?"

"It does when it's a 12 point buck." He nudged you and Randy both to the door as you gritted your teeth at having him man handle you again. "Now, I think you're done fantasizing about cars your penny pensions can't afford and you have a party to get to." He shoved you both through the front door, giving you a fake smile. "Enjoy it indoors." Before shutting the door.

The second he left, you and Randy gave each other annoyed looks.

"...Suspect?" You asked.

Randy nodded. "Abso-fucking-lutely…But why was the car important?"

"What an ass. How can Dewey stand working with these people?" You hissed under your breath.

"Uh, side stepping. What's up with the car?"

"I'll tell you later."

"YN, You're doing it again. You know something and you're not saying." He hissed out.

You gave him a sheepish smile. "It's not super important right now… We gotta mingle and blend in."

You knew you'd have to tell him something but once again you had no idea what.

Randy sighed and rolled his head to crack his neck. "Fine. Let's at least try to enjoy the night…Hopefully in one piece."

You shot him a glare right when Dewey came up to you both.

"You guys made it." He smiled and hugged you. You hugged him back and answered. "Yeah we met the other bodyguard."

Dewey nodded."You like him?"

Randy snorted as he and Dewey just grabbed hands and patted each other on the back in a half hug.

"Hardly. Guys an A class Asshole, Dewey." Randy replied as he and Dewey let go.

Dewey did that half cringe smile he was known for. "Oh Stone, he's tough but he's good at his job…Well, sometimes…Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone." He turned and motioned for you both to follow.

"God, I wish I had his care bear outlook on life." Randy mumbled to you.

You nodded, still thinking about that car. You could just see Stone behind the wheel in your mind, ready to run you down off that road…But who would order it other than-

"Oh, come in. Have a seat." Jennifer gave as Dewey rounded the corner with you and Randy. She sat on the end of an expensive couch.

You swallowed, eyeing her in a new light now. Some actor beside her with a cigarette in his mouth ripped up some pages from a script and tossed them in the air.

"Yeah, come on in. Enjoy the wrap party while you can." He sarcastically gave, taking a drag and puffing it out.

Dewey pointed. "Jennifer, Angelina and Tom. See the resemblance? Tom plays me."

Randy snorted. "Uh, no. I don't."

Dewey shot him a pouting glare as you eyed Tom taking a drag of his cigarette.

The thought of Billy crossed your mind for a short moment before shoving him out of your mind as Randy lounged on an arm chair across from the actor and Jennifer and beside a woman you didn't recognize.

The man stared at the script in his lap, taking the cigarette out of his mouth as he read. "Scene 40 through 47; Prescott house flashbacks."

"Stop it, Tom." The youthful woman with short hair scolded him softly. Standing up to stare down at him. "You're scaring me, two people are dead."

Tom scoffed. "Scaring YOU? Ha!" He laughed with a shake of his head before ripping the page while keeping his eyes on her. "Give the sweet, ingenue act a rest."

"You're drunk." She walked past you out a back door. You didn't even know if she saw you standing there in the corner next to Dewey.

The man mumbled. "I'm coping." Before glancing over at Jennifer with the cigarette at the side of his mouth. "I bet she fought and clawed for that Sidney part. I bet she stepped on any poor girl that got in her way."

Jennifer gave him a knowing look. "So you asked her out and she said no?"

He huffed. "That has nothing to do with it."

Your eyes widened as you stepped forward to look at Tom. He eyed you in your outfit up and down, truly looking at you for the first time.

"What?...Sidney? That girl plays Sidney Prescott?"

Dewey cringed. " Uh, YN-"

You ignored Dewey for a moment. "They wrote Sidney in this?"

Tom raised a brow. "Yeah as a flashback. Some back from the dead shit for nightmare fuel for the new girl they're casting. They've changed her three times because Roman's never fucking satisfied. And we certainly can't use YN since she went and sued Milton…Who are you anyway? I haven't seen you around Set..Hard to imagine I haven't." He gave, eyes traveling as you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself.

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "You're such a pig."

You shook your head in disgust. "God, what the fuck is wrong with these people?! Isn't it enough that she died?! We have to parade her around as nothing but a victim for the whole world to see?!"

Jennifer watched you as Tom huffed. "What? Are you competing for the part of Sidney too? Give the holier than thou act a break. Angelina's bad enough."

You glared at him. "I'm YN." His face dropped as you started walking away. "And I don't appreciate a movie using my friends' deaths as money grabbing entertainment for gore hungry fans that wouldn't last a day in our shoes."

Dewey and Randy both acted like they were going to follow you but you shook your head and walked out.

You heard Tom behind you as you shut the door. "Damn…Someones fucking touchy."

You ventured out where Angelina went before making a B-line towards a back door you saw. Yes, you were offended by it but you needed a way to snoop. Whether you liked it or not, you couldn't rely on Dewey or Randy completely. You had to get to that car and see if you found anything that looked suspicious. Your silver paint job on the cars, signs of your bullets, anything.

You crept out, slowly shutting the door behind you to ease into the shadows of the building. You could see Stones flashlight. You flattened yourself against the building until it left and you made your way to the side of the house. Your eyes went to the cars, until your eyes landed on a new one near Randy's. A Mercedes Benz you definitely didn't notice before.

You waited till the coast was clear before creeping towards the rows of cars. Using them as cover until you got to Stones SUV. You eyed it, glancing inside through the tinted windows, glancing around it and then making your way to the dent. You gently smoothed your hand over the dent, hoping to find a hole or scratch but instead found nothing. No bullet holes, no silver paint…Nothing.

'Fuck…I've got to get back in the house before Stone finds me again or Randy comes looking for me.'

Your eyes went to the Mercedes just to tilt your head. You eased over to it, seeing a pair of heels on the back floor board and a yellow bag you recognized as the one Dewey bragged about getting Gale as a birthday gift.

'Gale? What the hell is Gale doing here?'

You went to sneak back when your phone vibrated in your pocket. The high pitched ringing made you fumble for it, quickly jerking it out of your pocket and answering it just to shut it off.

"What? Listen, Stu if-" You hissed out, trying to keep quiet and hide in the shadows near the house. The voice caught you off guard.

"YN, it's Billy."

You paused a moment before looking at the ID…Unknown number. You shakily put the phone back up to your ear with a roll of your lips. "...Right…I don't know how you're doing this but I'm not that stupid."

Billy's voice scoffed on the other line. "YN, I don't have a phone, remember? I'm using a payphone."

"Sure." You gave sarcastically.

"YN…You need to get out of there. We don't have time for bullshit."

"And why do I need to do that, huh? So you can off me?"

"No, dipshit so I can talk to you and save your ass!...Stu is in on it and I have proof."

You blinked. "...You're lying."

"YN, it is ME! Okay, you tased me earlier! You told me you should have left me for dead…Remember?...It's Billy." He gave in a condescending tone.

You felt your brows scrunch as your lips parted. No one else but Billy would know that and it sounded like Billy. "I don't understand."

You saw Stones light and stopped talking as Billy spoke on the other line. "YN, you have to get out of that goddamn house! Stu is planning to strike tonight."

You didn't answer as you heard some sort of commotion and Stone talking.

"YN?"

You whispered, no choice but to creep away from the house closer to the woods. "Billy…I can't talk right now-"

"Then meet me off the property. I can be there in 5 minutes. I need to show you what I found…Once you see it, maybe you'll finally get a clue and we can off Stu and put an end to this. You don't die, Dewey and Randy don't die and I don't die…We can be on our marry way with Stu out of our lives forever."

"I'm not going deeper into the freaking woods."

"Do you want to die tonight? Do you want Dewey and Randy to die? If you can't go to the woods because you're a scared little girl then how the fuck are you going to take down this killer?"

"Billy-"

"YN, hurry up. We won't have another chance before Stu starts his bullshit!"

You bit your lip in thought as it got darker. You looked back towards the house one last time before reaching down and getting your gun from inside your boot.

"Okay…Where do you want me to meet you?"

"South East. Head towards the near the road. I'll climb up that way. Closer to the road you get, the better. Safer for you and easier for me."

You sucked in a shaky breath, gun in one hand and the phone to your ear. It was dark but not as dark as the woods near your home. The lights illuminated even the treeline. Your eyes darted to every tree and bush, as you tried to walk.

"You walking? Try to stay closer to the treeline so I can see you. I'm leaving the payphone."

"Yeah…Wait- " You answered on the phone. "Billy, I just don't get it…Why would Stu do this?"

"Cause he's a nutcase, YN. He's off his rocker."

You were eerily aware of how far you were going away from the house. You slowed, feeling your gut telling you something was wrong. You were roughly 50 feet from the house and you didn't want to go any further.

"I don't understand, why are you here?"

"...YN, we can discuss it later, okay? Just get there so I can leave the damn phone. You want to wait in the woods in the dark? Stay there and I'll get to you as soon as I can."

You stopped dead in your tracks. You licked your lips. "No."

"What? I'm trying to save your life!"

"...You know what else I can't understand?"

"What?"

"...Why would you give a shit with the fight we had? I could see saving your ass but why mine?...Why not just off Stu yourself if you have proof?...And Who is Stu's partner?...Who's his partner, Billy?"

The other line went silent. And you instantly knew.

"...You're definitely not Billy."

"Too late...You just made a big mistake." The familiar Ghostface voice finally came through.

"No, you made a mistake! I'm locked and loaded and I'm tired of playing cat and mouse with you!...I don't care who you are, I'm done playing these fucking games! You want me so badly? Come get me!" You hissed, trying to get ready. Your heart dropped, knowing you just pulled the trap's snare on yourself like you wanted…But you were still being trapped. You clicked the phone off and tried speed dialing Stu's number. You let it ring as you shoved it in your pocket, hoping he'd get the hint and be there soon.

You braced your gun with both hands, darting around. Heart racing as you swore every tree and every shadow as someone in a mask. Moments passed by as you started back peddling, subtly trying to get back to the house and hopefully lure the killer towards everyone. Towards people like Stone and Dewey that had guns too.

"COME ON!... I KNOW YOU'RE WATCHING ME!....WHO THE HELL EVER YOU ARE I-"

You cut off your own sentence with a scream as something huge rushed you from the side. You saw the mask and went to aim just for it to be shoved to the side right as you pulled the trigger. The bullet fired off into a nearby tree as your body crashed onto the ground. Gun tightly wrapped in your hand as you finally came face to face with this new Ghostface hunched over you.

You screamed again as you used what you were taught, trying to grapple your thighs around his waist and shoulder to get leverage as a knife narrowly stabbed the ground next to your head. Your eyes widened as you twisted your leg before you kicked them in the chest and rolled out. You went to shoot them when they slashed the knife over your hand, smacking the gun away as it got tossed to the forest floor. You didn't even have time to register what happened when they grabbed you by the head and jerked your neck downward, harshly tossing your body on the ground as you released a pain filled cry. Your head hitting a rock as your vision blurred.

They tossed you like you weighed nothing…Smashing your body feet away from them and stalking towards you.

You heard Stu on your phone talking as you jerked it out of your pocket and urgently yelled at him.

"STU! IN THE WOODS NEAR THE HOUSE! HELP ME!!"

You gasped as it was kicked from your hand. Stu frantically asked something on the other line before it was crushed under a heavy boot.

Years of preparing and years of nightmares fighting each other as you tried grabbing fistfuls of leaves to crawl to your gun. Tears streaming down your face as your breathing becomes choked off gasps for air. They jerked you backwards with a grunt as you screamed, praying someone would hear you.

They readied their hunting knife again as your hands felt for something, anything to use against them. Without a second thought, your fingers gripped a sharp rock in your hand and slammed it against the masked figure's head. You heard a man groan. You slammed it again…Again…and finally they leaned back enough to clutch their head as you got enough leverage to scramble away.

You sobbed, urgently crawling to the gun before your fingers got it. You jumped up, whipping around with your finger on the trigger

….Just for no one to be there.

Your hands trembled uncontrollably as tears rolled down your face. You whipped the gun in every direction, ready for them to attack you again just for nothing to happen. After a few moments; you bolted, scrambling through the wooded area back to the house. You cried as you ran, catching yourself on branches as you prepared for the killer to grab you.

Someone jumped out from a tree and you screamed, aiming your gun and almost pulling the trigger until they threw their arms up. "Woah! It's me!"

You coughed out a sob, staring in shock to see Billy there…You didn't lower your gun.

"W-What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"Keep your voice down." He eyed you. "I called Stu's number after I saw you guys were still gone with the motel's phone, he explained what your plan was tonight and I decided to see for myself. I got a cab and figured I'd hitch a ride back with stupid if everything goes right."

"Then why the fuck didn't he tell me?!"

"Probably because you were with Randy and he couldn't risk it…What happened? I heard you screaming." He stared at you. The malice he had for you earlier left his face.

You shook your head, feeling an anxiety attack bubbling in you as you choked back a sob. "...I was fucking attacked…And you know who called me? YOU."

Billy stared a moment before scoffing with a slight smirk. "That's impossible. How could I call you without a phone? I'm too far away from a pay phone…YN, it wasn't me. You're panicking."

You didn't answer as someone else came out of the bushes. You jumped, aiming your gun at them to see Stu creeping towards you. "Sweetcheeks?! Are you okay? I heard you screaming clear from the car and then your call!...And the fuck are you doing here?" He eyed Billy.

You backed up, aiming your gun between them. Stu's face fell as he looked at you. "Babe, what the hell happened?"

"She was attacked." Billy answered for you. "Whoever it is is in the woods still…She came from the direction you came in."

"I didn't see shit." Stu scoffed. "And what are you doing here, man? I thought you were at the motel?"

"SHUT UP!" You screamed at them both. Your voice cracked as you backed up as fast as you could. "...You both have lied and hid and manipulated shit this entire time. Someone attacked me."

Stu huffed. "YN, you called me and I came!"

"How could you be close enough to get to me without seeing the killer, Stu?! But not close enough to save me or for me to see the killer and you at the same time?" Your lip trembled as you clenched your jaw to stop it.

Stu eased towards you. "Babe, put the gun down. You're too emotional right now-"

"I don't fucking care! Billy called me and you came from the direction the killer was in but didn't see him…How do I know Billy didn't use your phone, Stu? Huh? Woodsboro all over again just switch the roles." You choked out, hands trembling and voice hoarse with tears.

Stu and Billy came closer to you. Billy scrunched his brows. "YN, you're bleeding pretty fucking bad."

Stu licked his lips and looked desperate to get towards you. "Sweetcheeks, put the gun down. You know me. Let's talk about this. I tried to get here as fast as I could through the woods; it's dark. I couldn't see a foot in front of me."

"And how could I use Stu's phone?" Billy added.

Stu pulled out his phone for emphasis. "See? There's no way."

Your eyes darted to the house's light in the distance. Your run getting you a bit farther away than you liked.

You knew they were probably right but you also thought they could be wrong. It was all too convenient! It was all too THEM to pull something like this. Your terrified brain couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. Just when you think you could outsmart the killer; they show just how different they are from all the others.

You took one last look at them, shaking your head. "...Fuck you both!" Before turning and running as fast as you could.

You could hear them calling out to you, you didn't dare look back. You needed to get to Dewey and Randy and get out of here. Fast. You didn't even care at this point what leverage the killer had. Just that you wanted to get away from two people that were starting to become more and more suspicious by the day.

You got close enough you could see the cars and side of the house. You heard yelling and screaming, seeing the blue pool and what looked like Dewey and Randy arguing with Gale and Jennifer before a huge flash erupted. A giant bang making you shield your face as heat hits you. The force was enough to make you lose your balance and fall onto your side feet away from where you stood. Scraps of wood,metal and brick hitting the ground and trees in front of you as the treeline helped shield you from the debris.

You opened your eyes from your place on the ground, gun still in hand as you realized…You just saw the house blow up.

You stared in shock as your worst nightmare was coming alive. Billy and Stu play you just to kill the ones closest to you…And frame you as the only one alive at that party. They're gone and getting revenge by sending you to prison like you tried to do to them all those years ago.

"...DEWEY!...RANDY!" You called out, completely panicked as adrenaline made you get up and run. Building ablaze be damned as you raced to the fire. Your eyes scanned around as you rushed towards the pool area. Staying away from the area the best you could as what was left of the building burned, debris on fire floating in the pool.

"RANDY!....DEWEY!" You cupped your hands to yell for them. Tears straining your voice at the idea they were caught in the explosion.

Suddenly, you heard yelling down the hill. You rushed over the balcony, crawling over it before your hand slipped. You found yourself sliding down, rolling into a tumble as you slid a few feet and stopped at a ledge.

You laid there for a second, wondering if you were even alive at this point before looking around and pushing yourself upward.

You groaned and stumbled to stand.

That's when you heard it, Randy and Dewey calling for you followed by Dewey calling for Gale and Jennifer and both of them calling back. All of them nearby.

"DEWEY! RANDY! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

You got up and slid down the hill the rest of the way on your side. A slight limp in your ankle as you twisted it the wrong way on the way down.

"Ouch shit-" You scoffed, crouched down and gripping your ankle before forcing yourself to stand up near the road.

You looked to see Gale smiling up at the hill. Your heart dropped when you saw Ghostface behind her near the parked jeep on the street and Dewey's panicked scream from the hill.

"GALE! BEHIND YOU!" Dewey yelled.

Gale screamed and ducked down as you aimed your gun and Dewey did as well. Both of you shooting at the killer. You saw Dewey's bullet hit their chest and you got closer, shooting as you stalked towards them. You felt a rush of satisfaction knowing you hit them as well as they rolled under the car.

You ran towards Gale and the car but stopped when you heard Dewey yelling and rolling down the hill with Randy tumbling after him.

You got distracted by two people you thought could be dead rolling down near you. When you looked back to where Gale was…The killer wasn't under the car.

"Dewey!...Are you alright?" Gale forced herself up to rush to Dewey and you did the same. Both of you helped Dewey and Randy stand.

"Yeah…Never been better." Dewey croaked out.

Randy groaned and staggered to his feet with you gripping his arm for balance. "Yeah, I had Dewey to break my fall…Thanks big guy."

"What are surrogate big brothers for?" Dewey sarcastically gave as he leaned on Gale.

Randy steadied himself, glancing at you before his eyes got wide as he realized who had ahold of his arm. He jerked you into a tight hug. "Fucking christ YN, you're alive!" He gripped you tight enough to hurt as you hugged him back just as tightly. His upper body strength was a bit more crushing than yours; you couldn't breathe and you didn't care. He pulled back, fear in his eyes as he stared you down and held your shoulders in his hands. "What the fuck are you doing? Where were you? I thought you were in the house! I thought-" His voice cracked before he held you again. "Don't you ever do that to me again! Ever! It's a horror rule! Didn't you learn anything from my case?! I swear to God -"

"I know. I'm so sorry…But I was attacked." You mumbled with a swallow.

He finally released you as you both watched Dewey and Gale rush to the car, Dewey looking around with his gun aimed.

Randy seemed eager to stay away from the car as you nudged out of his grip, your gun drawn and ready to kill anyone you saw wearing that god awful mask. Randy and you made your way closer.

"He's fast…I could have sworn I hit him." Dewey mumbled.

"So did I." You gave.

Dewey's eyes widened and a smile crept on his face. "YN! Where were you?! We were worried sick!"

"I was lured into the woods with a phone call and attacked. I'm sorry, I should have got one of you."

Randy stared at you with a frown and Dewey looked concerned. Gale simply watched you. She didn't glare to her credit but she didn't express concern either.

Randy walked over to the car and you followed, gun ready in case the killer popped out.

Dewey turned his attention back to Gale as they smiled at each other. Dewey asked if she was alright. You and Randy ignored them. Randy picked something up from the tire.

You went to ask what it was when a shrill voice rang through the air, making everyone jump.

"WHAT…THE FUCK HAPPENED…TO YOU?!"

Jennifer came towards Dewey and Gale with twigs in her hair and her clothes disheveled.

"Jennifer, wait a minute-" Dewey tried to cut in but Jennifer wasn't having it.

"Who gave you a place to stay?! Who are you supposed to be protecting?!" Both her hands were raised into angry fist before she clenched her teeth and whipped the side of her fist across Dewey's mouth.

You gasped in shock, anger bubbling in you just for Gale to intercept before you could even step towards Jennifer. "HEY!" Was all she gave before she punched Jennifer hard enough to send her flying to the ground with a cry.

You blinked in surprise as Gale stood near Dewey protectively as he held his jaw.

Jennifer jerked her head up and whipped her hair out of her face to glare at Gale. A bit of blood at the corner of her lip.

She dramatically held her head up high and enunciated every word. "My. Lawyer. Liked. That."

Gale huffed as she held her fist. "Not as much as I did."

You all jumped when someone stumbled out of the woods crying.

"Oh God, the house! Tom was in the house!" She whimpered.

"Angelina? How did you get clear over there?!" Dewey asked as everyone watched her.

Her whole face dropped in a way that made your skin crawl and your gut tell you something was off with her. "...Are we safe?" She asked.

"From who?" Dewey muttered to you all.

Randy still had the paper in his hands as he cleared his throat. "Uh…Guys-" He showed it as everyone crowded around except for Jennifer who struggled to stand back up and Angelina hung back crying to herself.

You held your breath, terrified as your heart hammered in your ears. What if it was a picture of you and Billy and Stu? Could you say it was photoshop? Would Randy still believe you? Would everyone else believe you?

You released a breath to see a picture of a young woman. She looked familiar.

"Another picture of Maureen Prescott." Dewey breathed out.

Gale peaked over. "Just like with the others…Turn it over."

Randy turned it over. "I killed her" written on the back of it.

Your mouth hung open…Why would Billy and Stu purposely say that if they're in hiding? How could they get to the car so fast without you seeing them? How could you shoot them and they still escaped?

'...They couldn't. They're telling the truth after all.' You told yourself.

You swallowed, shaking your head. Nothing made sense. Not a single fucking thing made sense. Now, you heard police sirens approaching. The cops were coming to the scene and you couldn't leave…You just prayed Stu got our car back to the motel and your life wasn't about to be completely ruined once cops investigated.

#scream #stu macher #billy loomis #scream fanfiction #my writing #yn fanfic #she her yn #my stories #ghostface #fanfic #scream 3 #terrible trilogy

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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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tteokdoroki · 3 years

Text

waves that hurt | k.bakugou + i.midoriya.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader x izuku midoriya.

♡ word count: 3.04K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, hurt, angst and comfort.

♡ summary: dark days mean dark waves that crash across your mind, intrusive and mean the waves pull you under— but they are the helping hands that pull you up and let you breathe.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy tw for depression, intrusive thoughts and self depreciation, self doubt and low self-worth. this fic is written mostly from personal experiences and may not be accurate to how everyone feels! mentions of therapy.

♡ author’s note(s): this is my contribution to @doinmybesthere ‘s mental health awareness collab, this is kinda personal to me and something i experienced recently!! i hope it can provide some comfort to anyone out there, please don’t forget to check out everyone else’s works and i hope you’re all safe ‘n well <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

“kacchan, it’s much worse this time, i really think you should come home early tonight.”

deku whispers into the phone, his marred hands rub slow and soothing circles into your back from over the duvet— you can feel his warmth, light and airy through it but he feels and sounds much further away. a million miles across a dark ocean that trickles through your thoughts, intrusive and mean, keeping you under and away from clear air.

you wouldn’t want to pull him into this, bother him with the way you drown in dark thoughts— so you pull away from your boyfriend and tuck yourself away into the sheets.

izuku doesn’t retract his hand even as you pull away, listening to katsuki grunt orders down the phone— make sure yn’s eaten, make sure yn’s had water. basic things you should be able to do on your own but can’t, paralysed by the anxiety and depression that clamps down on you like a vice and refuses to let you up so you can just breathe. you want to breathe and not feel like the world is crashing down on you, to have a second to yourself where everything seems like it’s okay.

brushing fingers over the nape of your neck, toying with the coils of your baby hairs, your boyfriend speaks, only gently. “baby,” says quietly, his weight causing the bed to dip. “katsuki will be home soon, do you want to come with me to let him in?” you shrug, a sick feeling twisting in your gut. you see the black tendrils and waves in the back of your mind, bringing forth a new batch of ugly words that force you down. are you really that much of a burden these days that katsuki has to call it quits on work for you? “how are you feeling?”

you don’t know, you don’t know how to tell him that every thought you have hurts and there’s a pain in your chest with every breath you take. “i don’t know, it’s just...bad izu…” you want to explain how you feel deep inside, but the words are trapped like balls of tar in your throat— fear that if you say something he’ll walk away.

“you don’t have to say anything, don’t force yourself to…” he speaks with a soft voice, cotton to your ears in an attempt to soothe you. you can just about feel the clean air flowing through your lungs at the sound— it tells you he loves you, no matter what and you almost believe it before sinking back under. “let’s get you some water okay? wouldn’t want kacchan scolding us would we?”

the joke hangs in the murky and heavy air for a few seconds before you muster a small smile— your green haired boyfriend lets out a tiny sigh of relief and pressed a kiss into your hairline, the affection simmers under your skin and briefly brings light to your dark mind as izuku starts leading you to the kitchen.

you’re curled up in izuku’s lap when the front door pops open with a click— signifying your other boyfriend had arrived home. you flinch, hiding yourself in the blankets keeping you warm and locking away the dark thoughts from the eyes of your lovers.

part of you hated them seeing you this way, that’s why you forced yourself to keep everything away from them— but they knew, they always did and always came to your rescue. you didn’t want them to feel like they had to look after you when the days were bad and draining and your mind took hold of everything that you felt. you didn’t need the weight of your own problems on the shoulders of two pro heroes who had enough to deal with.

in the end, you would destroy them like you did with yourself.

you can hear katsuki shedding his gear by the door, feeling his intense and heated presence flood the room and barely penetrate the barrier you created for yourself even while you lay in izuku’s arms. for as long as you’d known the two— even from back in your U.A days, bakugou had hated self-pity, of course in recent years he’d cooled down a little and spoke less on the actions of others but even still, you weren’t sure if you could handle him looking down on you for looking down on yourself and for feeling this way.

the blanket is suddenly lifted from your head, momentarily blinding you with the overwhelming light that is your boyfriend, katsuki bakugou. a twinkle of concern lines his ruby eyes and you can see traces of his charcoal eyeliner that he usually smudges underneath his mask— he’s so beautiful but you’re afraid of the twitches of worry, afraid that he’s mad at you for being the way you are.

“hey honey,” bakugou hums, crouching to your level to cup your cheeks, stress bleeding from his body when you nuzzle into him.

izuku gives you a squeeze, an encouraging one and you nod. “hi,” is all you can muster, afraid of blurting the intrusive words that crackle across your brain.

katsuki sits back on his haunches, looking between you and his boyfriend before he attempts to kick off his shoes. the room is full of a thick, ugly quietness that you know you’re responsible for— they don’t have to say anything, you know that it’s you. because when you’re like this it’s hard for bakugou and midoriya to talk, afraid that they’ll say something to set you off and you afraid that they’ll leave if they knew how you really felt. how trapped and alone you felt inside, how the twisted darkness added tones to your vibes and dragged you down with every step that you took.

they don’t need to say it because it flows from your body like a rushing river and drowns them, fills their lungs and it’s your fault for infecting them with your own bitter taste of life.

“have you eaten?” the blonde of the two boys asks, looking you dead in the eye. you want to answer, but again the viscous back from earlier starts to flood through your body. you try to take care of yourself of these days where you feel it the hardest, but it’s difficult to move and to breathe— and the drive to complete even the simplest of tasks is barely ever there.

you move to speak, caught up in the thick smog of your own brain when izuku gives your body a squeeze and shakes his head, the forest of his hair brushing against your cheek. “you’ve had water, right?” izuku has no problem answering for you. “but nothing to eat,” he whispers, keeping his voice low as if to hide his worry from you— it’s light in his tone but tremors throughout the number one’s body. you feel sick for making him feel that way.

katsuki’s gaze shifts back from his boyfriend to you, his expression unreadable because he knows how you get if they worry too much about you. you’re thankful, partly for that at least, his blank face prevents your mind from reading too deep into things and blaming yourself for things out of your own control.

“‘m makin’ your favourite for dinner. you’ll eat it, no questions asked.” the explosive pro hero states firmly, rising from his place crouched down by your side, obviously not before thumbing over your cheeks to wipe away evidence of your dried tears. “gonna run you a bath too, damn nerd better get you upstairs and ready by the time it’s done.” deku’s chest rumbles with a light hearted chuckle beneath you, lifting the heavy weight of the air within the room— bakugou had always loved brashly, with a fiery intensity that hardly left room for the answer ‘no’, and while izuku was more tame, they balanced one another out in a way that felt more like a warm hug than a battle. they grounded you, in the best of ways.

true to his disgruntled words, your blonde headed boyfriend runs you a hot bath. you don’t miss the addition of lavender oil to the perfectly warm water, the baking soda which you’re sure he only knew to add because his mother had said it would remove the demon spawn toxins in his body. izuku is the one to help you strip, holds your hands as you kick off gross comfort clothes and folds them away, after pressing kisses to your groggy face and chin.

it’s almost funny to see the two biggest and beefiest pro heroes sit on your bathroom floor crossed legged and beside the tub— both of them taking up the majority of the room. you know for a fact that no one would believe the sight unless they saw it, but they’re there. both of them, izuku midoriya and bakugou katsuki are with you encompassed in the silence while you wash away the ugly words that plague your mind and fill the pores of your skin.

they’re still there.

even as sweet lavender water moves in soft waves over your bare body, while black ink moves in the same way across your brain— tattooing self-depreciating thoughts into every inch. you’re not worth their time, they say, you’re wasting it. because how could their precious time be put to good use if you’re taking it up, they could be saving people but instead your boyfriends are here, drowning in your own darkness.

they’re still fucking here.

when they could be out there saving the people who needed it, who were suffering out there in the world outside of your home.

and the suds against your body, the warm water sloshing over your thighs isn’t enough to get rid of the burning sensation of vile phrases printing themselves against your body and clouding every thought that you think. toxic, mean and nasty things you can’t scrub away— none of it is enough to make you feel like you deserve bakugou tenderly lathering you up with the rose scented soap his mother had sent you for christmas or the sips of cool water midoriya brings to your lips in order to prevent you from overheating in the steam of the bathroom.

deku catches the painful twist in your face, pausing his movements to study you. “whaddya need?” you need it to stop, to find something to replace the pain and doubts that fill you.

“water, hotter,” you croak quietly, tears building up in the base of your throat as katsuki catches on and flicks the tap for a stream of hot water to fill the tub. “please,”

they tell you to let them know when to stop if the heat gets too much, but the scalding water burns away any reminders of the self loathing you feel across every inch of your mind, your body and your soul. it stings at the darkness in a way that’s painfully soothing and maybe if you sink under— it could stop hurting completely. if you could slide deeper into the water, would the waves of darkness not crash so hard?

and then the damn breaks, like a tsunami the guilt and anguish you feel crashes over your body and takes control, leaving you fighting for oxygen in the form of your happiness.

everything that you’d been holding back flows freely in salty tears from tired eyes, scorching a path down the apples of your cheeks and mingling with the contents of the tub below. your boys, they don’t notice at first, how you cry and curl in on yourself until you think the world won’t notice you anymore but then just as they always do, they’re pulling you into their warmth and bubble of light— freeing you from black intrusive tendrils even if it means they have to crawl into the tub and wade their through the ocean you’ve made to set yourselves apart.

“don’t—!” you heave with an uneven voice, signs of you falling apart evident in every way. bakugou and deku pull away from you slowly, with dripping shirts and worry written across freckled faces and red eyes. they’re scared for you, hate seeing you force your feelings down and away from them. “please don’t touch me—you’ll—“

the water in the bathtub sloshes from where you retract from their touch, backing yourself up against the wall and away from your boys. “we’ll what?” izuku presses but only gently, keeping you afloat, stopping you from sinking and bakugou stays put in his place, letting the latter talk you down.

you shake your head, trying to think of the right words but it’s hard to, with the crashing waves heavy against your ears. how do you tell your lovers that everything hurts, to think and to feel, to live day by day. you don’t want to bother them with and an extra stress to their busy lives. but you can’t keep it in any longer, bursting at the seams. “you’ll drown. i-if i touch you, i’ll pull you under, you’ll drown with me and you won’t be able to breathe and all those horrible things that i think about will burn in your lungs until you give up fighting like me,” your tears and hiccups interrupt your words, but they listen. bakugou and deku, they listen and they stay.

“yn—“

“because if you do, then all that i feel will be a burden to you— i’ll break in ways that can’t be fixed and you’ll be forced to pick up the pieces and i’ll just be a burden,” you continue, not even pausing to take a breath while you continue to cry. “if you stay to pick up the pieces, you’ll be taken away from people who need you, who are worth saving, and can be helped and—“

you can’t recount how many nights, similar to this in which you wondered why and how two pro heroes could want and love you, why they dealt with your down days that sometimes outnumbered the ups— even if they’d shown you how much they cared, you couldn’t help but feel guilty as if your sadness took up their time to save someone else.

“you can be helped, yn. you don’t have to go what you’re going through alone, you’re worth the time and the effort of helping, no one deserves to suffer,” the green haired of your two boyfriends cuts through the tail ends of your words, still keeping distance until he knows it’s safe to touch you again. there is no look of condescending pity on his face, no sign to show you’ve pulled him into the dark of your mind. it’s just izuku, trying to help you pull through.

you look to katsuki hesitantly, he hasn’t said a word. “but i don’t want to be seen as...as weak, or to worry you because i can’t get out of my own head—“

“y’not fuckin’ weak, we’d never think that of you. we see you try to hide your pain, pretend things don’t get to you when they do. but fuckin’ handlin’ things on ya own can make y’stronger than any two heroes combined,” a look of anger flashes across his features, finer with age and tired with work. but bakugou isn’t angry with you, but with himself for leading you to believe that you were an extra weight on his shoulders. both of their shoulders. “yer not gonna get rid of us or scare us away, we love ya, we’re here for ya ‘n if it’s help that you need or think yer not worthy of, we’ll find some. it’s okay t’ask for help.”

maybe it’s hearing it from someone else, that your pain and your depression is valid, that you’re not an extra weight on the people you love that allows you to come up from a tar-like ocean for fresh air in your lungs, for the waves to calm and the storm raging in your mind to soothe. maybe it’s the two of your boyfriends being there for you despite the fear that you’d scare them away with not being okay that washes away some of the awful things you think.

you know that their support won’t make things go away over night, that it will take time for you to heal but for now you can keep your head above the water just long enough to breathe.

“can i touch you now? is it okay?” deku asks, feeling less distant from you than at the start of the day, but as your body shakes with the last of your tears all you manage is a nod before the number one hero is pulling you into his chest from the tub and the number two is wrapping a towel and his arms around you.

you sit sandwiched between the two, they keep you at the surface— holding you tight while you let out what you’ve been holding back. “we can get some help if y’want it, the doctors...therapy might be nerve wrackin’...scary even, but it can help and we’ll be there every single step of the fuckin’ way,” katsuki reasures you with pets to your head, rocking you back and forth on your bathroom floor, steam clinging to the air that you can finally breathe.

izuku nods along in agreement, pressing kisses to your wet hairline. “we’ll be here. you won’t be alone.”

the murkiness of the water in your mind starts to clear, but only just— their warmth starts to push through the clouds like sunshine brushing against your skin. a light to the dark that's plagued your every waking moment, the waves no longer crash and destroy but instead lap comfortingly at your painful thoughts and tame them just enough for you to have a moment of clarity.

you don’t have to be alone or millions of miles away, you deserve the hands of your loved ones that offer you help instead of pushing them away. the process of healing and things like therapy or meds will be hard sometimes, but katsuki and izuku will be here by your side, to help you manage days where darkness rolls in waves that hurt and help you breathe once again.

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oreosmama · 2 years

Text

On a Cold Winter’s Night (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Trapped in the university library due to a raging blizzard outside, you are forced to endure the cold night with the man you hate the most: the player who lives in the dorm across from you, Tooru Oikawa. But with tensions and anxieties at an all-time high, you begin to realize your feelings for Oikawa aren’t quite what you thought they were, especially when all he wants to do is keep you warm.

A/N: I took like six hours to write this??? Bruh callin’ amateur hour in this bitch 😑😑 eh, whatever, enjoy!

Word count: 5345

Snow, layers upon layers, piled up outside of the library. The glass doors of the library had long frosted over, and inside the lights began to flicker. Outside every window was a blanket of white, everything in the distance far too foggy to see through the flurry of flakes.

The lone television suspended above the library’s main desk played the same succession of videos–static with white noise, a scrolling of text warning people to stay inside, three loud buzzes, then more static with white noise. It far overpowered the sound of the library’s heater kicking on, its automatic settings desperately trying to battle the cold that succeeded in invading the closed and locked library.

You sighed, sparing another glance at the exit and the wall of snow that kept rising against it. Minutes ago you’d tried pushing open the doors, only succeeding in chilling the tips of your fingers against the frozen metal. Ever since then, your fingers never truly seemed to recover.

Just your luck; first a small windstorm had delayed your flight back home for Christmas Break, and now, just when you’d given up and decided to work on a few research projects while being stuck at the university, you were trapped inside the library.

But you weren’t alone. No, of course not. As if fate had it out for you, you were stuck inside the building with the one guy you despised with your whole being.

“Gum?”

Oikawa held out a piece, a small smirk dancing on the edge of his lips. When all he received in response was a blank stare, he shrugged and unwrapped it, tossing it in his mouth before toying with the wrapper.

The both of you sat behind the librarian’s desk in tall, wooden stools. It was the only place with service, and it was where you had both scurried to the second the storm warning chimed through the announcement speakers.

While you had attempted to push through the doors, Oikawa had called the school’s main office, warning them of your predicament. Of course, he’d cut himself off halfway through with a cackle at the sight of the door slamming back in your face, but nonetheless he’d gotten a simple, if completely undesirable response.

“The both of you need to stay in there and not leave. It’s far too dangerous to go out into the blizzard right now. Tomorrow morning it should be calmed down, and then we’ll send people over to get you. For now, try to stay warm.”

When he relayed this message to you, you had him put them on speaker so you could hear it with your own two ears.

Pop.

Alas, it was the truth. You were stuck.

Pop.

With your worst enemy. Alone.

Pop.

During a blizzard.

“Will you stop doing that?” you hissed, heaving a glare at him.

Oikawa froze in his seat, a gum-bubble the size of a golf ball slowly deflating with a wheeze. He raised his hands in surrender. “Excuse me for trying to find some source of joy in this miserable place. Maybe you should try having fun once in a while, YN.”

Your cheeks burned in shame at that. “I have fun!”

A single brown brow rose. “Do you?”

“Yes,” you folded your arms across your chest, “I do. But unlike you, I don’t do it at the expense of other people’s sanity.”

Long ago, amidst your third week of your first year at the university, you learned that you and Oikawa were two vastly different people. In co-ed dorms, he lived just across from you, and it seemed he reminded you of that every other night.

While loud music boomed across the hall and eventually spread throughout the building, you sat inside your dorms, hands over the headphones over your ears. You were usually leant over a textbook, pencil and notes abandoned long ago as you tried to comprehend the words despite not being able to hear your own thoughts.

Your roommate would slip out to join the fun, meeting and laughing with someone who had knocked on your door. Then that someone had tapped a single finger on your shoulder, squatting down beside your desk and leaning his head to one side.

As usual, a teasing smile danced on his lips. “You gonna join us, or sit here studying like a Debbie Downer?”

You’d be the first–and most certainly not the last–to admit that he was attractive. Brown hair exploding in tufts and swept across his forehead. Bronze eyes twinkling in the light of your lamp. Thin, pink lips pulled into a goading grin.

“Come on, I promise the water’s warm.”

It was at that moment that you started to hate him.

“Get out of my room.”

The smugness blanketing his face had dropped for a split second, and you genuinely wondered if you were the first to ever resist his charms. But how could you not, when in every second of your interaction with him, it felt like he was laughing at you?

Hesitantly, it seemed, he rose to his feet, stumbling a bit. You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was already drunk, but you hadn’t smelled it earlier when he was inches from your face.

“All right,” he chuckled, rising to his full height with his hands on his knees. Swiftly, he turned and made his way to your door, not bothering to look back at you again. “I know when I’m not wanted. Enjoy your studying, YN.”

How he’d learned your name, you never really. You’d figured he caught it on the first day of the one class you shared with him, English, amidst mandatory introductions. Since then, every time your name fell on his lips, he more sang it than said it, always in that sly tone of his.

You hated it. You hated him.

And now, as you spent the third day of Christmas Break locked inside alone with him in a freezing library, you found yourself despising him even more.

Pop.

“Well, YN, you should know better than anyone that I have a knack for driving people insane,” Oikawa hummed, long fingers folding the edges of his gum wrapper against the desk surface. Your eyes drawn to the action, you absentmindedly scoffed.

“Yes, I certainly do.”

His eyes darted to yours, an emotion flitting across them before dropping back down to his miniature origami. A chill ran up your spine.

“I’m going to go look for some blankets,” you sputtered out of the blue. You found yourself reflecting his shocked look, a little surprised at yourself at the outburst.

“Okay,” he grinned after a pause. “Hurry back soon.”

Ignoring the wink he offered you, you slipped out of your chair and left him alone behind the desk counter, effectively beginning your search for stray, abandoned coverings.

Instantly, you realized the rest of the library was significantly chillier than the desk up front. Though the heater was still pumping and hissing through the air vents above you, it was now rattling much more forcefully than before.

Must be the snow piling on top of the electrical system or something.

The fluorescent lights buzzed above you, still cutting off and flickering every few seconds as you passed bookshelf after labeled bookshelf. Signs labeled with genres and areas of study swung from the ceiling over rows of different-colored bindings. So distracted, you let out a yelp of pain after stubbing your toe against an abandoned book cart, plenty of go-backs filed one after the other in no discernible order.

“YN?” Far off, Oikawa’s voice called after you. Despite the distance you’d created between the two of you, he still must have heard your pained shout. A small part of you was surprised he bothered to acknowledge the noise at all.

Maybe he’s not a complete pain in the ass.

“Yeah, that was me, I’m fine! Just hit my foot on something!”

“Do you need help finding your way around? I’m sorry, I forgot my walking rope, so we’ll have to hold hands!”

Nevermind, still a dick.

“Fuck you!”

“That’s why I’m here!”

Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips to prevent giving in to his teasing further. With a few hissed curses under your breath, you continue venturing through the uninhabited building. Though you did find a few abandoned belongings, none of which were of much use. A few too small hoodies, one suspicious pair of sweatpants, and some stray sunglasses. One poor soul even forgot their backpack at one of the work tables, and despite your initial curiosity, you refrained from digging through it and instead left it where it was.

It was when you arrived at the individual work areas divided by wooden partitions that your search finally paid off. Because it was arranged against a line of floor-to-ceiling windows, it was significantly colder in this work area than any other place you’d come across. Luckily, that also meant there was a higher chance of you finding spare blankets–which you did.

One was still strewn across the back of a work chair, a black fur throw with no designs but a single tear at one corner, presumably where a tag had been. Another, this one cream-colored, knitted wool, sat in a crumpled pile on the very last desk of the entire area, arranged in the furthest corner of the library from the entrance. The bulb in the ceiling above this desk had been out ever since the first time you’d been in the library, so you weren’t surprised to figure that people crammed out naps between studying in this dark little corner.

While gathering the two–scratch that, there was another on the ground next to you–three blankets in your arms, you spared a look outside the windows. Frost and a glaze of ice covered each corner where metal met glass, and, because you were on the first floor, you could see how high the snow had piled by now. It reached as high as your hips, with more flakes joining or splatting against the pane every second.

The sun, you could see, was just barely setting, the gray of the sky growing darker. Soon enough, it was darker inside than it was outside.

The power. It had gone out.

“YN!”

Because the heater sputtered a few more clicks before kicking the bucket, you could barely hear Oikawa’s voice, far off and muffled, over the large distance you’d covered in the library. The lights above you no longer buzzed, and instead an unsettling silence took over the building.

“Oikawa! The lights!” You hugged the blankets to your chest with one straining arm, the other fumbling with your phone flashlight. You began the trek back to the front desk, squinting to try and make out shelves and stray books along the way. Despite the long-sleeved T-shirt you wore, a chill was beginning to nip at your skin, and you slowed to wrap a blanket around your shoulders.

“I know, the weight of the snow must have taken out the electrical box or something!” His voice was getting closer; he must have been making his way towards you in return.

Passing through the towering bookshelves, you made it out and turned a corner onto the main path they created. A shadow of a figure stood inches from your face.

“Shit!” You flinched back, kicking a leg out blindly in self-defense. The tip of your snow boot struck something hard, and a strangled groan escaped the person as they dropped to the floor. Now level with the light of your flashlight, the person was finally visible–Oikawa hugged his shin to his chest with clenched eyes and gritted teeth.

“Ow, ow, ow, owie!”

You winced, your guilt growing worse after realizing he had just been searching for you.

“Oh, sorry,” you cringed, dropping the blankets and hovering your hands over his coiled form. You wanted to help, you just weren’t sure how. “Do you… do you want some ice for that?”

The glare he threw you chilled you to the bone more than the weather outside.

“C’mon,” you hid a snigger behind your hand, straightening up and offering him the other, “it was just a joke. I really am sorry. Let’s get back to the front desk; I’ll help you.”

The huff he released ruffled the bangs on his forehead. “I should make you kiss it better,” he pouted, hand latching onto yours and pulling himself up. He almost yanked you down with him, but you’d stationed a hand on one of the shelves for support the second you felt his whole weight. You hadn’t expected it, but you supposed you should have guessed it–Oikawa’s body was packed with muscle from years of playing volleyball.

Even now, as the main setter of your school’s team, he had daily workouts that only made his body stronger. You’d passed him once during a warm autumn day; he was jogging around campus shirtless while you were on your way back to the dorms after just getting out of class. He was headed straight for you, and during that time, everything seemed to move in slow motion.

One, two, three… eight, you’d counted, eyes raking down his chest. The sweat glistened on his bare skin, bathing him in a glowing sheen due to the midday sun. A narrow waist trailed down, down to volleyball shorts hanging slanted on his hips. A smug snicker drew your gaze up, past a broad chest and shoulders and onto Oikawa’s simpering face.

“Like what you see?” his lips mouthed, but you couldn’t hear over the pounding in your ears, blood rushing to your face.

“You’re disgusting” were the only words you could think to say, though they were the exact opposite of how you felt. Maybe you were actually speaking to yourself, ashamed at the way your body reacted to a man you hated with your entire mind. Nonetheless, his face fell in shock, and you brushed past him, ignoring how he’d stopped dead in his tracks and continuing back to your dorm.

The view from that day was still imprinted in your mind, as though somehow your mind was afraid of forgetting it. Forgetting him.

But you would never forget how much you despised his attitude.

You released his hand as quickly as you’d grabbed it, reaching back down and gathering the blankets off the floor. A red flush took over your cheeks, and for the first time you were glad the electricity had gone out. Maybe the rest of your body was beginning to freeze, but your face was completely warm.

“I’m not kissing anything, perv.”

You tried to leave him stranded behind you, moving forward to return to the front desk through the darkness, but his longer strides easily caught up with you aside from a small limp.

“The night is still young, YN.”

Instead of a proper response, you settled for a scoff, avoiding the gaze you knew was locked on your face. An amused hum escaped the man beside you, but you blocked it out.

Finally back at the front desk, you spared another look outside. The sun had set completely now, a dark blue hue now in the sky as more and more snow collected against the glass. It seemed the warmth of the room had been sucked away completely, leaving behind a stale, frigid atmosphere that dried up the back of your throat.

“The blankets will certainly help,” Oikawa broke the silence behind you, “but we’ll need more than that. I snagged what I could from the backroom, some water bottles left in the fridge or so, but we need food.” When you shifted to face him, he nodded his head toward the vending machine next to the restrooms.

“You want to break into the vending machine?” you deadpanned.

“Unless you’ve got generous amounts of cash, of course,” he smiled sarcastically.

“Maybe we should wait until morning before we start committing crimes.”

Oikawa shrugged. “Desperate times, YN.”

“We’re not that desperate.”

“Not yet.” He eyed the cloud of air his words left, releasing a larger, experimental breath and watching the fog that hung in the air afterward.

The sight made your stomach clench a little. If the cold from the outside had seeped in that quickly, you had a feeling three measly blankets weren’t going to last the two of you through the night. A wave of goosebumps ran along your skin when you thought about the cold too much.

You swallowed. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. We just have to make it till morning.” The strain in your arms from holding onto the blankets too long finally drew your attention back to them, and you busied yourself with arranging the throws on the floor. You handed one to Oikawa, saving one for yourself before spreading the last on the floor behind the front desk.

The rough carpet floor was less unforgiving when covered with a blanket, but you knew that in a matter of minutes your backside would be numb either way. Oikawa snagged the water bottles off the counter and passed them down to you before settling on the floor himself, a distance far too close for your comfort, but the heat he was giving off silenced any of your complaints.

Then it was too quiet. You cracked open a water bottle and took a sip, then you opened it again and took another sip. All the while, you saw Oikawa watch you in your peripheral vision, and when his staring came to be too much, you scrambled for your phone.

“Shit.”

“What?”

You patted your hands down your legging pockets once more, then along the ground. You flapped around your blanket, hoping to hear a weight thump against the floor, but there was nothing.

“My phone’s missing.”

“When did you-”

“Dammit, I left it on the ground after kicking you!”

“Hey,” Oikawa screeched, offended. “You say that like it was my fault!”

“Well,” you rose to your feet, Oikawa following suit, “you were the one who scared the shit out of me!”

“Didn’t you know I was looking for you?” He followed you down the main walkway through the shelves, his presence inches from your back.

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to materialize right in front of my face!” In effort to escape his suffocating presence, you quickened your pace, eyes on the ground but not really seeing anything.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my bad. Next time you go missing during a snowstorm, I’ll be sure to wear a bell so you know exactly where I am at all times.”

“That’s not what-”

Crack.

The both of you froze in place, argument out of mind in an instant.

“Was that…?”

“Uh oh.”

You both directed your attention to underneath your foot, where an object lay cracked from your aggressive stomping.

Dropping your face into your hands, you let out a loud groan. “Could this day get any worse?”

Oikawa had squatted down to investigate, nudging your leg out of the way before picking up your cracked phone. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it was useless anyway.” He tapped and poked at the screen, toying with the buttons. “Looks like it was out of battery.”

“Fuckkkkk.” You tore it from his hands, performing your own investigations of pats and brushes along the screen before calling it quits. “Isn’t yours out too?”

Solemnly, he nodded, taking his phone out and allowing you to tap around on it before throwing it back in his pocket.

“So we’re fucked?”

“Majorly.”

The pair of you slumped back to the main desk, flopping onto the ground and wrapping back up in your blankets. A shiver of cold mixed with frustration had taken over your body in a short span of time, causing your breaths to escape with slight chatters of your teeth.

You could feel it now, on the tips of your fingers and the end of your nose. A chill seeped through your leggings and slid up your shirt sleeves, sinking into every pore and leaving your hair standing on end. Your muscles began that all-too familiar buzz, a slow but steady trembling in effort to get your blood moving. Your toes curled in your boots.

“It’s cold,” you commented, the words slipping out like an afterthought.

You thought he’d agree, hum, or even nod his head. Instead, Oikawa scooted closer to you on the blanket, enough that his upper arm brushed the end of your shoulder. Then, slowly, as though approaching a wounded animal, his arm rose and wrapped around you, not only covering you with his heat but also with his blanket, still soaked in the warmth from his body.

Mind blank, you didn’t move a muscle for what seemed to be five minutes after he’d moved to embrace you.

“Is this okay?” he’d whispered into the silence, voice soft yet hesitant.

“W-why?”

“You said you were cold.” He shifted a little, but didn’t move away. And surprisingly enough, you didn’t want him to. “I–didn’t want you to be cold.”

A blanket of silence falls over the two of you, an atmosphere of peace you never thought you’d experience with the brunette man in your life. His warmth left you in a sort of lethargic trance; you didn’t want to move away, though your mind was urging you to, nor did you have the energy to. For the first time, you wanted Oikawa close to you, and you didn’t want him to leave for a while.

You were exhausted.

Formerly, the two of you were both leaning back against the wall. Now, tucked into Oikawa’s side, your right arm pressed into the side of his chest while your left was cushioned a distance from the wall by Oikawa’s arm, wrapped sturdily around your shoulders and urging you to lean toward him instead.

Man, you were tired.

“YN?”

“Hmm?” Your eyes cracked back open, and you shifted your gaze to him, waiting.

His head was leaned back against the wall, eyes still closed as a single brown tuft of hair fell across his forehead. In the light the moon reflected off the snow, you could see the length of his lashes brushing the apples of his cheeks, the sharp edge of his jawline that you yearned to run a finger along. He didn’t bother to look at you for a response when he muttered, “Why do you hate me?”

The question zapped you to attention like a taser, guilt flooding your chest for a reason you didn’t quite think you knew. There was a strong urge in you to pull away from him, but the hand on your arm tightened, halting any drastic movements.

“I… I don’t…”

“I know you do,” he sighed, tongue running out along his lips. “Please, just tell me.” There was a sort of surrender in his voice you never thought you’d hear. For a second, you missed his smug tone. You missed the teasing lilt of his voice. You missed the Oikawa you knew.

You wanted him back.

“You’re weirding me out, Oikawa.” In this position, you couldn’t poke him in the cheek, so you settled for his thigh. He barely flinched, peeking a single eye open. “Go back to acting like that smug little shit I know you are.” His lips quirked up.

“I promise I’m still me, YN. I’m just a bit curious is all.”

“Yeah, well, it’s freaking me out. I want the normal you back.”

Wrong words.

“You do?” He was wide awake at that, head straightened up and eyes wide and at attention. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging.

“Nevermind.” You twisted in his grip to get your back facing him.

“No, no, noooo.” Both of his hands grabbed onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “Say it again. Say you want me again.”

“God, you’re such a perv,” you stutter, voice wavering with his movements.

“You’re so mean, YN!” he whines, finally releasing your shoulders. You think he’s given up and let down your guard slightly, a little curious at his expression. But when you turn your head to face him, two arms wrap around your waist, yanking you back and in between Oikawa’s outstretched legs.

“What the-” While you struggle in his arms, Oikawa only holds you closer, leaning back and taking you with him so your back rests against his front. He hooks his head over your shoulder, and you tense when you feel a breath of warm air against your ear.

A shiver tears through your body, but you’re relieved he doesn’t comment on it.

“Say it again, YN.” And he definitely feels the shiver that time. A breathless snicker heats up the skin of your neck, but you’re too trapped in his arms to escape the overwhelming feeling it erupts in you.

“God, I hate you,” you sigh instinctively.

Oikawa grows still. The fun and games are over, it seems, as he pulls his head away from your neck. The arms encircling your waist have become rigid.

There’s a thump against the wall. Then a pause. “Why?”

You bite your lip, and though the words are on the tip of your tongue, you can’t seem to force them out. You’re ashamed, embarrassed, regretful. All of those ugly feelings he pulls out of you every other day, you draw out of yourself in this moment.

“Oikawa, I-”

“Tooru,” he corrects.

Flustered, you continue, “Tooru… whenever you… you always just… I never…” You groan at your lack of words, throwing frustrated hands over your face. The heat in your body, though small, rises. “I just feel stupid around you.”

“Stupid?”

“Like an idiot.”

“Idiot?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop it.”

“Sorry,” he pauses, “I just… you think you feel stupid? Around me?”

You don’t understand what he means, so you stay silent.

“So… you feel like an idiot around me… why, exactly?”

“Because,” you wave your hands around, not really sure what your gestures are doing considering he can’t see them, “you just… you tease me all the time! And when we’re in class and you look at me and I just feel like I’ve got shit all over my face! And when you throw those stupid-ass parties, I feel so lame because it’s not like I don’t want to socialize, but I hate the way people act at parties! And then you come along and tell me that I should join, but I know it’s gonna fucking suck and I know you’re gonna see that I stick out during parties like a sore thumb and that makes me feel even worse and I-”

“YN!” A hand slips from your waist, slapping over your mouth and effectively cutting off your rambling. A disbelieved breath sounds behind you. “Jesus Christ, YN.”

And you feel like even more of an idiot. You take some pleasure in the fact that he can’t see you as tears begin springing in the corners of your eyes.

But then there’s a hard pressure against the back of your head. And then something soft against the back of your neck. “YN, YN, YN,” and you realize his lips are on your neck, his face buried into your hair, “God, you just… you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

You didn’t know that.

“The fact that you can say all of that, and think all of that, and feel all of that, without realizing why I even do it at all drives me insane.” You feel his mouth move against you with every word, your skin growing hot under his breath. You try to speak against his hand, and thankfully he pulls it away when you do, returning it to your waist as though it doesn’t muddle your mind.

“What are you talking about?”

And he laughs like it’s the dumbest question in the world. And maybe it is, but you have to know.

His lips are on your neck one last time before he pulls away, leaning back against the wall once more and taking you with him. “YN,” his fingers twitch against your skin, the cold of them biting through the fabric of your shirt, “do you have feelings for me?”

And you feel like the biggest idiot of all, because you do.

You do have feelings for him, and you only just realized that now.

“Holy shit.”

Oikawa stiffens. “What?”

“I have feelings for you.” The words slip out before you can stop them, mostly because you’re still in disbelief. Did you really? After all this time of thinking you hated him, of hating how he teased you, you seriously had feelings for him and you didn’t even notice?

Stupid. So very stupid.

A loud scoff from Oikawa breaks you out of your stupor.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me nuts.”

And you can’t even turn around and call him an asshole because he’s turning you in his grip and pressing his lips against yours. The hand on your chin, the other on your hip, all to pull you closer, spin you around and tug you onto his lap without separating from you.

Your hands are in his hair, and you’re tugging, and it’s that whine you always hear whenever you don’t respond to his teasing, that needy one you thought you always hated because it just shakes you to your core but now you get it, you finally understand it. And those long fingers, the ones he always slams onto your notes drunkenly whenever he’s having a party and you’re not there but you forgot to lock your door so now he’s in your room and he’s bothering you, begging you and toying with you to get your attention, those fingers that have stolen your notebook away and held over your head while he smiles and stubbles around, getting you to chase him–they’re on your hips and you know they’re leaving bruises and you like that they’re leaving bruises.

You like it all because it’s so cold tonight and he’s so warm and he’s always so warm and you want more, more, more.

And he hovers over you, and you gasp. You hate how he teases you because he loves it so much, and that makes you love it. You love it.

It is cold tonight. There’s a blizzard raging right outside the doors to the library, stacking up snow higher and higher. You’re both trapped, but you don’t want to leave. Because despite all of the cold, you’re both very, very warm.

~~~

The next morning, when people find the two of you, they blame it on that little notion that runs through everyone’s minds when people are stuck together during a cold blizzard, because surely that’s what it must be.

And surely that’s why your cheeks are flushed and full of embarrassment, because although everybody knows how weird it can be, during such a life-threatening situation, it’s a desperate attempt to stay warm.

So when they found you the next morning, thankfully safe and sound and wrapped around each other to try and preserve warmth, they were glad that you two innocent, poor little students, who must have been so scared to be trapped in a building without electricity and heat, were going to be okay, and that they could safely escort you out of the building and back to your dormitories with an official apology.

Until one of you asked if they could leave so you could finish what you’d started.

“Tooru, you fucking pervert!”

#oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa toru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #toru x reader #toru oikawa x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! x reader fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #hq fluff #oikawa x reader fluff

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stefanmikaleson1864 · 3 years

Text

I Promise

Requested: can you do a one shot where yn is Bobby’s youngest daughter who survived the fire. While she’s at a friend’s spending the night the house catches on fire and she is trapped inside?

@courtney-reagan

Moving to LA it was hard to make new friends. You had trouble adjusting to your new life so far away from you old one. You had a love hate relationship with your dad. It was hard because you knew it wasn’t his fault for the fire but then he was the easiest one to blame.

Missing your mom and brother and sisters was hard. Sometimes it was like you didn’t know who to grieve first. One minute the loss was easy then it hit you like a ton of bricks.

You envied your dad. He moved on and sometimes it feels like he just got a new family. How was it so easy to just replace them? Granted he didn’t talk to much about it. He just kept it all in just like you.

He did show his love and worries in other ways though. The PTSD and trauma coming out in other ways. Maybe it was his way of letting you know that he knew and he wasn’t over it either.

So when you told him that you were going to your friends house for a sleepover he expressed his worrisome about “these girls” and were they the right kind of people to be hanging with. You knew that no matter who you were friends with that he would find a problem.

He dropped you off after school that night. Friday night prime time sleepover time. He told you about 500 times that you could call him no matter what and he would come get you.

“Dad It’s a sleepover I’ll be fine don’t worry.” you told him as you two sat in the driveway of your friend Hannah’s house.

“I know but even if you feel like you can’t call me you can.” he said.

“I’ll be fine promise i’ll call you in the morning don’t worry. Love you.” you told him opening up the door.

“I love you two sweetheart.” he said to you. Watching you walk in the house.

Later that Night the sleepover was a blast. Makeovers and Karaoke and pizza. You finally felt like you belonged. It was like life was fun again. These moments meant a lot to you. More than people think.

So in the late night everyone fell asleep in the makeshift tent that you all had built. Screaming woke you up out of a nice slumber.

Everyone looking around at each other. Then the smell of smoke coming in the room. That smell that you knew all to well. It made your heart beat faster hands and legs shaking. You struggled to catch your breath.

Hannah’s mom came in and saw you the other girls not knowing what to do. Just sitting there in shock. She tried to calm you down. But it didn’t work only getting more panicked.

Hannah’s dad came running in the room smoke all over his face a scared and frighted look on his face. He looked defeated. You were back home again and it was just overall fear took over you.

Hannah’s dad was on the phone with 9-1-1 they told him to shut the door and try and close off the room. With the hopes the smoke wouldn’t come in.

Bobby was at work. Heading right over after dropping you off at the sleepover. He was grateful for the night shift the first time ever it was able to distract him. He didn’t wanna worry so much about you but it was hard.

Later that night finally going to sleep wishing morning came quick. He was woken up by the ringing bells. The awful noise coming through the firehouse waking the quiet 118 up.

“Where are we going? Bobby asked when everyone entered the truck,

“2123 Lakeview dr. House fire family trapped inside.” Buck answered. Bobby’s heart dropped. It was an awful to familiar feeling.

“Y/N is there she’s at a sleepover.” Bobby whispered.

Buck started driving a hell of a lot faster than what he was. No one said anything, they didn’t know what to say. Nothing they would say would take away his pain right now.

Sitting in that room was hard. Everyone was sitting in the room holding each other. Hannah’s dad was trying to calm everyone. Her mom wiped everyone’s tears away. Giving everyone hugs telling them it’s okay we will be alright.

You knew that these things could get so out of hand. How deadly they could be. How they can take everything away from you.

You wished for your dad. You hated that your phone was downstairs. You couldn’t get to it. You just wanted to know he was on the way. He was coming like last time.

Little did you know those sirens you heard that got everyone’s hopes up. Help was here they were gonna make sure this time was different.

Bobby ran out of the truck before it came to a full stop. Grabbing his gear and going. The protest of the 118 tried to talk to him to get him to calm down to think rationally but that wasn’t going to happen.

He bust down the door. “Y/N Call out. I’m here daddy’s here.” he called out. He searched the upstairs and then made his way upstairs. It was hard, the ceiling was falling down and stuff was everywhere.

Bobby headed up stairs with Eddie who came in after him. Hearing a noise coming from the bedrooms. He headed to that one. His heart thumping out of his chest. He called out and said to get out of the way out of the door.

Relief washed over him as he saw you. You were okay, you were alive un hurt that’s all he wanted.

You ran over to him and he grabbed you in his arms. Eddie got the other girls one in each arm. Promising to come back for the parents. They didn’t care just that the kids were safe.

Once you were outside Bobby took off his mask breathing in the fresh air. You held onto him. He didn’t want to let go either. He was so happy you were okay. He can’t believe you had to go through this again.

“Promise me no more sleepovers, no more fires, you're never leaving the house.” Bobby said.

“Deal I promise.”

#911 #911 imagine #911 x reader #bobby nash #bobby nash x reader #bobby nash imagine #911 on fox #911 oneshot #bobby nash one shot

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scintillasofbeomgyu · 3 years

Text

➷ a star called you — chapter 14: “panicking”

pairing: choi beomgyu x reader. genre(s): fluff, band txt, college au, smau (this chapter is semi). wc: 689. warning(s): none; this isn't proofread and was put together rlly fast 😭. an: SURPRISE 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 !!

[11:53 pm] — “i'm going to step out for a minute,” taehyun whispers, glancing over to where haewon is monitering the operating board with kai at their side and suhyeon inside the booth. shoving his phone into his back pocket, jogs across the room before clicking the door shut behind him.

after the absolute chaos following your slip up earlier, and a behemoth scolding from haewon, you had retired to one of the sofas lining the walls in the far corner of the studio. taehyun had joined you to ensure you wouldn't self-lament, and while you appreciated the thought, you couldn't help yourself. you made taehyun and kai swear to cover up for you, but it had only left you with an aching feeling– the after effects of a cowardice you wished you could overcome.

you absent-mindedly nod your head at no one, too absorbed in attempting to figure out the person behind your dorm leader's texts. all your friends were in the room with you, and you were sure anyone who would randomly show up to your dorm at this hour knew your cellphone number.

unable to ignore the strange feeling tugging at your chest, you lock your phone and pull taehyun's hoodie over your head before carefully opening the studio door. a smile curls onto your lips when you think you have successfully snuck past haewon, but you freeze at the sound of familiar voices in the hallway.

“have you been running around in the rain?” taehyun almost yells, but it's tone you know almost too well. he's concerned.

the other person sighs, muttering a “no”, but he is unable to conceal the way his chest heaves. you take a silent step closer toward them to get a better look; and your limbs freeze, trapping your heart in your throat.

beomgyu stands infront of taehyun, rainwater soaked into his hoodie and sweats, pooling at his slippers and dripping off strands of his hair and his nose. his lips are almost blue and his shoulders are shivering ever so slightly, but he smiles. he smiles a smile that is so warm and so inviting, while his eyes sparkle and crease at their ends.

sticking out his arms, he offers four bags to taehyun. “uh, i wasn't sure what they were sick with, so i kinda just got a little of everything,” he shakes the two bags in his right hand and then shakes the two in his left, “and one of these are some things from the convenience store, and the other is some porridge from that place we usually go to– it's still hot so tell them to be careful.”

without saying a word, taehyun takes them from him. you can't see his face, but you can almost feel how astounded he is. because you feel it, too.

taehyun clears his throat eventually, and then speaks, “you could have left this with the dorm supervisor, why come all this way if you didn't want to see them?”

the dorm supervisor? your eyes widen. your heart races as the pieces click together in your mind. beomgyu? beomgyu was waiting outside the dorm for you? he ran through the rain, getting all these things for you? but why?

beomgyu looks as if he's thinking for a moment, then he smiles again. “i like yn too much. you'd think i'd have the courage to tell them after all this time, but as soon as i got here i started panicking,” he laughs, “maybe i've been quiet about it for too long. the thought that i'm not good enough for them is just...too scary, i guess.”

your head swirls and your chest tightens with all the information you were just saddled with. beomgyu... likes...

beomgyu lifts his head to look at taehyun again but his face twists in horror as he finds you standing there. taehyun frowns in confusion and turns his head, only for for his eyes to widen in something between surprise and utter shock.

“yn,” beomgyu says softly, snapping you out of your daze.

when you realize they've noticed your presence, panic has your feet taking you bolting down the hallway.

previous || masterlist || next

yn and their friends run the campus radio for which yn is the host of the evening show "dear sputnik", where they share stories and hope to create a healing space for all students— even though many don't listen to it. little does yn know, their biggest fan, angel313, is choi beomgyu— the boy they've silently had a crush on for the past four years.

taglist: @yeonieluvs @feyregels @boba-beom @binniebutter @mango-mina @ghostingtrackone @beombug @jungwon-luv-bot-pt3 @neonew @speckled-sunshine @tyunstars @vantxx95 @spookybias @jiminaaaahhhh @angelhee @hkluv @00-baejin-05 @sbnchaos @youreverydayzebra @ikyk-leeknow @milkycloudtyg @tyundere @rainooo @onigiriyuki @minthoodie @ittttzzzzzyyyyyyyyyy @viscoolreal @gyuville @s0ngk4ng @soobinbins @day6andetcetera @woniecstasy @thegracerammy @rae-blogging @kwonthefire @definitelynotcesia @jjunimaze @soobsdior @bbeomgyucafe @jakeycore @hoshi4k @lovebeomb @milkochaa @tonightletspretend @hseungace @msxflower @nyfwyeonjun (send an ask to be added!!)

#txt imagines #txt scenarios #moacabin #lsn.works #hybenet #txt smau #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgu smau #txt fluff #txt crack #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu crack #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt text au series

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zafirosreverie · 3 years

Note

can you please write this: agatha have a love/hate relationship with y/n, she put her through what she did to wanda (living difficult moments of her past) and during the scene where yn was with her ex gf she gets a bit jealous watching it and makes comments about it

I loved this ask! Thank you so much for it. I hope you like what i did with it, dear! ^ - ^

The universe between your hands (Agatha x Fem!reader)

You growled as Agatha’s voice came behind you. She had you trapped in her basement and used her magic to keep you from using yours. You were totally gonna kill her.

This has been your relationship with her since the very beginning. You two hated each other, always fighting and trying to be the best witch. That led to nights staying awake together, reading the spellbooks as fast as you could, fights in the forest that usually ended with one of you having to carry the other, just to avoid being scolded by the older witches, and flirting. So much flirting (at what, you had to admit, Agatha was better). It wasn’t anything serious, but the older witches didn’t want to hear the two of you arguing, so you ended covering your arguments with sarcasm and flirting. It was natural for you both at this point.

“Ready to talk, dear?” she asked, walking around you like a lion playing with her prey. You rolled your eyes.

“You haven’t even offered me a cup of tea” you answered. “You’re losing your touch with your guests, Aggie”.

She chuckled at the name and grabbed your face with her right hand while playing with your hair with the other. Her baby blue eyes locked with your e/c ones. You always found her eyes really beautiful.

“My guests usually don’t try to kill me, darling” she whispered “the best you deserve is coffee”

“two spoons of sugar, please” you growled and Agatha smirked.

She caressed your cheek before she let your face and hair and started walking behind you. You blushed when she wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed you against herself.

“Tell me what you learnt and I’ll let you go” she whispered in your ear “You’ll be free to play in the stars, love” she promised.

The stars. That was the reason you were here right now. You always knew you could be better, always knew there was so much more to learn. Just, not here on earth. You found a way to travel across the universe, and you learnt so much from the magic on other planets.

You were on Antares when you felt the chaos magic and it felt like a good time to visit your old home. The plan was simple: go to earth, learn chaos magic, go back to your studies on Antares. But travel across the universe took so much of your power and you always ended tired and almost knocked out when you did it. By the time you arrived at Westview, you could barely stand on your feet. That was the only reason Agatha was able to capture you. She wanted the power you got from the stars.

“I thought you were not interested in it, Aggie” you said and cursed yourself for feeling butterflies on your stomach when she giggled on your ear and used her free hand to play again with your hair.

“You know I’m interested in anything you do, Y/N” she said and you blushed.

That was true. She was always asking for you around the coven, wanting to know whatever you were doing, that was how she managed to be a step ahead of you sometimes.

That’s why she was the one having a trial and not you, a voice in your head said and you felt guilty. You had been the one planning to steal the books, to learn dark magic. It was your idea. You were the one who planned to break the rules. Agatha just did it first because you lost a fight against her and she read your mind.

“I’m a little busy, hon” she whispered in your ear, interrupting your thoughts “so, let me save both of our time”.

You gasped when she released you, allowing you to stand on your feet. Too bad your knees were too weak because of her proximity. You would have hit the floor if it wasn’t because of Agatha’s arm that was still around you.

“Careful, dear. I haven’t even taken you up stairs” she joked and you rolled your eyes, feeling your cheeks a little warm.

“fuck you” you mumbled as you stepped away from her. You just heard her chuckling. You weren’t sutpid, you knew she put some runes around the room to avoid your magic. Smart ass.

You felt her approach you from behind again, and suddenly, everything was black. You blinked before you noticed the new scene. You were in the forest. What the hell? Agatha stood beside you and you two watched your memory. It was that time when you sent a poor girl through a bunch of trees.

She was a younger witch that tried to make fun of Agatha. You remembered being angry at her, because it was your thing. No one else was allowed to talk like that about the brunette, just you. It was common knowledge in the coven. So, you just were defending that privilege, it wasn’t because of Agatha’s eyes being filled with tears.

Then, the real Agatha made a move with her hand and the memory changed. This time it was her who was defending you from hunters. You had made a mistake and the men from the village saw your magic before you could hide it. You ran but you were still young and you couldn’t control your magic like you do now. When they were too close to you, you felt a magic that wasn’t yours and suddenly a wind too strong took the men away from you. You would later learn to identify that magic as Agatha’s.

“You were pretty stupid back then” you heard Agatha whisper and you frowned before you turned to her.

“look who’s talking” you rolled your eyes. She only giggled and changed the memory again, to the one when she saved your ass from the older witches by saying you were with her all the time. You were actually outside the forest, which was not allowed to younger witches, but Agatha lied for you.

“How am I going to beat your ass myself if you’re expelled?” she had said when you asked her why she did it.

The memories kept changing for a while and you felt something strange inside your chest. Some of them were always present in your mind, but some were almost forgotten. What you noticed while watching them, was that you and Agatha acted like an old married couple most of the time. But no, you hated each other and that was the only truth you knew.

You didn’t say anything when Agatha skipped the memory of her trial. It was a silent pact you both made a long time ago. That night...never happened.

The memories changed to ones from a closer time. Both of you were older, you knew more about the world, your goals changed. You took different paths, but would find each other from time to time. Even then, your dynamic remained the same. It was almost comical, now that you had the chance to watch it from the outside. It seemed like you’ve always had complete faith in Agatha surviving, while she seemed to have (well founded) doubts about your ability to stay alive.

“Just take what you want, Aggie” you suddenly said when you recognised the memory that was playing now. Your reaction seemed to be interesting for her, because she giggled and hugged you from behind.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she whispered in your ear. She seemed to like doing that, you noticed.

However, you just wanted to stop the memory right there. “I’ll tell you what i learnt, we don’t need to keep watching this” you said, but she ignored you. She now definitely wanted to see this.

You tensed when another voice came from the memory.

“Y/N? Love, where are you?” a female said. It was your ex girlfriend. Agatha was still behind you, so you didn’t see her frowning.

“oh, there you are, silly. Are you ready?” your ex asked and you watched yourself nodding and taking her hand. She kissed you and you stared at her with love. It made you sick because you knew how this memory was going to end.

“You’ve been busy, Y/N” you heard Agatha saying, but there was something else in her tone. You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

You watched as your past self and your ex went on your date. Agatha’s arms pressed you more against her when the memory showed your ex doing the same while looking at pictures in the museum. It was the same position, but you couldn’t help but notice it felt better with Agatha.

“She took you to see the same boring paintings you’ve known for centuries? how original” Agatha said and there was that tone again. As if she wanted you to notice how bad of a match your ex was. Well, she didn’t need to do it, you knew now.

The older witch couldn’t help herself, but she felt...something. It was strange. She planned to watch your memories just to steal the knowledge you had from the stars (even when a little voice in her head said that she also wanted to see what was going on in your life. She didn’t see you in a long time, after all), but now that plan was quickly being forgotten.

She frowned when she heard someone else calling you “love”, watching this woman taking your hand, playing with your hair and kissing you lips, was too much for her. With the exception of the kissing part, those were the things she usually did with you. It was normal for her to play with your hair, to grab your hand and even hug you (for lord’s sake, she was holding you in her arms right now!), it was her thing, something she always thought that was special for you both, and watching someone else doing it, felt like an insult to her. As if that woman was stealing what was hers by right.

That annoyed her. So she did what she always does when something annoys her. She tried to get rid of it. These were your memories, so she couldn’t actually do anything to the woman, but her brilliant sarcasm should be enough.

“Really? a fancy restaurant? how cliché” she said, trying to get a reaction from you. But you seemed lost in your thoughts.

You watched the scene and the moment your past self walked on that restaurant, you wanted to stop yourself, you wanted to yell, to tell yourself to walk away from there. But what happened, happened, and there was nothing you could do about it. So you just kept hearing as Agatha kept making sarcastic comments about your ex.

When you watched your ex offering you a drink and your past self smiling lovingly at her, you felt Agatha’s hold tightening around your waist and unconsciously leaned against her. For someone who has spent the past 300 years trying to kill you, Agatha surely knew how to make you feel safe.

Agatha felt you leaning more into her embrace and some of her rage faded away. However, she decided to stop the memory when she saw the woman pulling out a small box from her jacket. No, she didn’t want to see that.

You blinked as you two went back to Agatha’s basement. What happened? She didn’t even get the memory she was looking for, the one about your new powers. Instead, she pressed her lips in your temple and remained quiet. Almost as if she wanted to stay this way for as long as she could, not that you were complaining.

You stared at her hands around your waist and took want of them in yours. You watched it carefully, noticing every vein, spot, freckle and wrinkle it had. You watched how your own fingers slowly intertwined with hers. It felt good. But you couldn’t remain silent. Not when your mind wanted an answer.

“Why did you stop?” you asked softly. Agatha didn’t answer right away, too lost on the feeling of your fingers.

“I don’t need to watch the proposal. Nor the wedding” she finally whispered in your hair and you frowned. There was that tone again, the same she kept in her comments all the time she watched your memory of your ex. This time, you knew what it was. Jealously.

The thought made you blush. In another time, it would have been enough for you to start a war and laugh at her. But something felt different this time.

It was strange. There was nothing that was different from your previous encounters. There was nothing different from the way you acted with each other, and still, it didn’t feel the same. This time, it felt more intimate, more dangerous. There was a line you didn’t know you were walking to, and now, it was time to decide whether to cross it or not.

“There was no wedding” you said and slowly turned around in her arms to look at her. She frowned, confused and you couldn’t help but notice how cute it was. You noticed the passage of time on her face. She seemed wiser, but also tired. Stronger but broken.

But she was as beautiful as always.

“She did propose” you continued, sighing “but it was a lie. She worked for HYDRA, and wanted my powers” you said, playing with a stray of her hair “so i killed her”

That made Agatha blink, and she stared at you for a moment before a small smile appeared on her face. “Really? The great and always right Y/N, murdered someone?” she joked and you chuckled. You were as naughty as her, and you both knew it, but there was a time when you would have preferred to let yourself be killed than to kill someone.

“I had to. I think that, if someone who isn’t you, kills me, we’ll both be very disappointed” you said and she giggled. Has her laugh always been this cute?

“Good to know that you still hold me in high esteem, love” she said and it was your turn to laugh.

You stared at each other’s eyes and you knew that the time was over. The line was right there and you had to cross it or walk away from it. The way she brought her face close to yours and the silent question in her eyes was all it took to happily jump the fucking line as you gently kissed her, wrapping your arms aroun her neck.

You came to earth thinking you’d be gone quickly. But suddenly, the stars were not as interesting as this universe between your hands.

#x reader #reader insert #imagine #wandavision imagine #agnes x reader #agnes imagine #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x y/n #mcu imagine #mcu x reader

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cabensonsgirly · 3 years

Text

👼Baby's Got Trouble. Don't Know How To Live. Don't Want To Die. (Cordelia Goode)👼

Cordelia Goode x fem!reader

👼Part 6 of SP getting reader pregnant👼

👼Slice 1👼

Co-authored with @billiedeannovak

Somewhat au but more so later xx

👼Wordcount: 3422👼

👼Posted on AO3: Read Here👼

👼Content: Your mum sucks, slow-burn, fluff, angst, alcohol, more to be added later👼

👼“No, ma’am. It isn’t crazy hippie rubbish. As I said, your daughter has a place here at the academy. She will start classes upon arrival. It is best she bring all the clothing she has and any other personal items she might wan-“👼

“Hello? Is this the Robichaux or whatever place?”

“Robichaux Academy, yes it is. My name is Cordelia Goode, I’m the Headmistress of Robichaux Academy. How may I help?”

“Brilliant. My daughter, Yn, has somehow managed to break our wine glasses while we were- my husband, son, and I were sitting eating at the dining table. She then managed to fix them once the initial shock wore off but this can’t go on. She’s a disgrace to the family. We heard tales from her great grandmother about witches in Salem but we just thought she was going batty in her old age. Regardless, can you fix our daughter?”

“I- Ma’am, I understand that to people like you- er, I mean, people without magical abilities, that it is scary when these abilities show themselves, but it doesn’t mean your daughter needs to be- to be fixed. Yes, she can come to the academy, there should have been a letter in the-“

“Oh. That place. We got the letter and threw it out thinking it was some crazy hippie rubbish.”

“No, ma’am. It isn’t crazy hippie rubbish. As I said, your daughter has a place here at the academy. She will start classes upon arrival. It is best she bring all the clothing she has and any other personal items she might wan-“

“She will take what she can fit into that stupid bag of hers before we kick her out. We don’t want her in the house any longer. She’s a disgrace and is putting us in danger.”

“I think- I think she’s the one in danger, not you. People still- There are people out there that still want us dead. She will be safer surrounded by her sisters. Someone will come by to make sure she makes it here safely.”

“Good. I suggest someone come quick because after I hang up, she’s no longer welcome.”

“I- Okay ma’am. Very well then. Someone will be there shortly. Have a pleasant evening.”

You have always hated the dark ever since you were a little kid, it’s not the darkness itself that scares you but rather the inability to see what could see you. The lights that lined the streets offered little to no visibility, they were as useful as soldiers would be standing in their place, in fact, they were probably what made you most unnerved about sitting outside on the curb at night, they had this uneven yellow glow to them that only managed to give off light in a very small orb around them. The only thing that would make your current situation more unpleasant than it already was, would be if a thick fog rolled in, trapping the light in an even smaller radius, and making the darkness around you all that more ceaseless.

It was a relatively quiet part of New Orleans, and at the moment you couldn’t tell whether this was a blessing or a curse. Sure, there weren’t random people approaching you and asking if you have money or if you need help, but there was also no one around if something were to happen to you. Yes, your scream could be heard but no one would come running to see where it had come from or why it had been made.

Your parents hadn’t really explained much about where you were going, they said “gather your shit in that bag of yours and get out” followed by a “someone from that hippie academy will pick you up” but that was all they had said before the door hit your ass on the way out of the house.

There weren’t any hippie academies that you could think of, you doubted they were even a thing. Wouldn’t a hippie academy be counterintuitive to the whole hippie thing? Why were you even being sent away? It wasn’t your fault that the glasses broke, it was an accident! And you had fixed them so why were you suddenly sitting on your ass on the curb?

The low hum of a car draws your attention from your phone and makes you jump up and back from the curb so you don’t get hit by it. It’s a fancy car so surely it wouldn’t be here for you. Why would a black Mercedes A-Class Sedan pull up in front of you?

Maybe it was one of those gross rich people that wanted to give you a nice place to stay and anything you could desire in exchange for sex. No Bueno. One of the doors swing open and a young blonde woman steps out, brushing down the front of her knee-length black skirt before smiling shyly at you. “Are you Yn?”

You narrow your eyes and tighten your grip on the straps of your backpack “Who’s asking?” Despite current circumstances, the woman doesn’t come across like she would do anything to hurt you, she seems kind and has a certain air of innocence about her.

“Oh! My apologies, I’m Cordelia Goode. I’m the Headmistress of Robichaux Academy. I’m here to take you there. Have- Did your parents explain where you’re going and why?”

You shook your head and looked down briefly, toeing the dirt with your shoe before glancing back at her. “No. They pretty much told me to get my shit and leave, and that some ‘hippie academy’ person would come get me. Are- are you that person? Not- not a hippie person but- not- not that there’s anything wrong with if you are.”

Cordelia laughs softly and moves closer to you, offering her hand to carry your bag “Let me take that for you.” You hand her your bag, quietly apologising for it being heavy but she seems to hold it with ease. “So they told you none of what I discussed with them on the phone? That’s- that’s to be expected I guess. We can discuss this in the car on the way, okay?”

You nod and follow her back to the car, climbing in after her and closing the door. She whispers something to the driver before the car sets off, turning her attention back to you. “Do you know anything about witches and covens?”

“A little? My great grandma use to talk a lot about what happened to family in Salem but mom and dad always said she was just getting batty in her old age. She said that witch hunters would tear people from their homes and slaughter them, sometimes whole villages of people that were believed to be witches or- or even harboring them.

She use to show me magic tricks as a kid, making her purse disappear then reappear in my school bag. I never knew how she did it but- but it fascinated me. I talked to mum and dad about it, how amazing it was but they just told me to stop talking and never talk about it again. Other than that… I have no idea.”

“Your- your parents- mother- did briefly mention that your great grandmother use to talk about it but she, as you said, put it down to her being batty in old age. Unfortunately for your grandmother- great grandmother, sorry- what she talked to you about was- in some cases, still is, true. Witches, all though now have safer places and are more widely accepted, they- we, are still at danger of being killed by witch hunters.

At the academy, Robichaux, we are safe, the Supreme is incredibly strong and capable of protecting us, and there are a number of other older witches who help too. But like most covens, we are stronger together than we are divided. We are here to protect and help new witches grow. With us you will have a new family who will never turn their back on you when you are in a time of need.”

Looking out the window it was just a blur of colours from the lights and neon signs that lit up the streets signalling that New Orleans night life was just waking up. “What do you do when you grow up licking poison off knives and now that you’re finally going to be in a situation where you're fed on milk and honey, all you can think about is running because something that sweet can’t be anything other than poison? What is that quote…

I don’t know how to stay tender-“

“with this blood in my mouth? Ophelia, act 4, scene 5. It is… appropriate considering your situation but… if I’m going off my impression of you, you are going to find it easy to continue being kind, even if you feel like you’re only good at hurting people. I can see that you have a good heart, Yn. Although my mother does tell me I’m not good at judging people.”

You smile shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly “Thank you, Cordelia. I hope I can prove your mother wrong and be the good person that you think I am.” You return your gaze to look out the window, admiring the different colour lights you can see and how busy this part of the city was. “It’ll be nice finally having someone that believes in me. That believes I am good.”

“You will find that there will be others out there who will see goodness in you too. But- but even if there aren’t… Know that I see it.”

The rest of the drive was filled with light-hearted banter, the kind you would hear good friends throw back and forth. You wouldn’t consider you and Cordelia to be friends seeing as you two have only just met but you felt as though it wouldn’t take long until you were.

By the time you made it to the academy it was around midnight, the building was grand and imposing, it had this energy to it that gave off the distinct impression that if you tried damaging it in anyway you would be the one that came away worse off. There were lights that lit the pathway and entryway up which somehow managed to make the building all the more intimidating despite feeling perfectly safe.

You went to grab your backpack but Cordelia bet you to it. “I can carry my bag, you know that right? I don’t mind taking my own shit- stuff in. You’ve already saved me from whatever hell my parents were going to impose on me, the least I can do is take my own things inside.”

She shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips as she leads the way up the path “I’m sure you can, but you’re new here and you’ve also had a long day, it’s the least I can do for a new coven member.” You let out a dramatic groan as you follow after her, she opens the door and steps to the side to let you in before coming in after you and closing the door behind you both.

“It’s so quiet. Is it always this quiet? I can’t- Nevermind” You shove your hands in your jacket pockets, waiting for Cordelia to take you to where you can hopefully get some sleep.

“It’s only this quiet when the girls aren’t creating mischief and partying, as well as when my mother hasn’t been drinking, mind you, I haven’t seen her since she left to travel the world... You’ll grow to appreciate this rare moment of silence.” She gestures for you to follow her as she leads you up a grand staircase, leading you down a hall before opening a door to your left.

“It’s a small room but I doubt you’d want the girls harassing you with questions at this hour so we’ll move you into their room tomorrow if you would like? There’s drawers for your clothes, a small desk, and of course a bed. The bathroom is next door and if you want hot water I suggest waking up before 7 or else Madison will use it all up when she takes her hour long shower.”

You nod your head and thank her quietly, taking your backpack from her you step in the room, dumping your bag on the desk before moving to close the curtains. “Is- Is there anything else I can do for you before I let you get some rest?” You turn around to look at her before looking at the floor “Is- Is it okay if I turn some music on? I’ll have it quiet so it doesn’t disturb anyone. I just- I can’t sleep when it’s silent.”

Cordelia smiles softly, she finds it rather adorable that you can’t sleep unless there’s noise of some sort but she doesn’t want to embarrass you or herself by admitting this. “Of course you can. I will make sure- or try to get you a radio so you don’t have to play it through your phone. I’m sure it will be nice to hear music rather than the girls screaming at each other over who stole whose makeup. I- I wouldn’t mind hearing what you like listening to” your eyes shoot up to look at her, a blush settling on both your faces.

“I- uhm… I- Good- Good night, Yn. I’ll come see you in the morning so I can introduce you to the others at breakfast. Uhm… Let- let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help you settle in. Good night.” She rushes out, hoping that you don’t notice how flustered she got but also has a gut feeling that you did notice. She gives you a small wave before leaving quickly, the door closing behind her.

You let out a slow breath, feeling the exhaustion from the day hit you like a bat out of hell. You knew this made no sense seeing as you did nothing physical but apparently being kicked out of home for being a witch had the same effect as running a marathon, it left you broken and tired.

You remove most of your clothing, leaving just your shirt and underwear on before climbing into bed, taking one last glance at your phone to see if you have any messages or calls from anyone but unsurprisingly there weren’t any. You turn the volume up a bit so you can hear your music then put it on your small side-table before turning over and trying to sleep.

No matter where you stayed or how exhausted you were, the first night sleeping somewhere new was always the hardest night sleep you had. Nevertheless, you managed to get to sleep relatively quickly but staying asleep was where it became difficult; the days events were playing in this off-kilter manner, like they were somehow glitching and just playing that awful moment where your powers revealed themselves and you saw the look of fear then disgust in your parent’s eyes on loop. No matter how hard you tried to change what you were dreaming about, your dreams would always end up looping back to this.

“We can never have a fucking normal dinner when you’re involved, can we? There is always something going on with you. Last night it was because you wanted to have a glass of wine and ended up polishing the bottle off yourself. And now!? Now it’s because you’re some freak.”

“Honey, that’s not- you can’t call our daughter that. This time it isn’t her fault this happened. Yes last night was unpleasant but you certainly weren’t helping and now you’re berating the poor girl.”

“Oh? It’s my fault? So what, you’re defending our freak of a daughter?”

“No- No that’s not- I’m not defending her. Tonight was- is just- this is out of her control and ours.”

“Exactly. Out of our control. She’s always been like this. I’m going to go make a call to that academy place. See if they can fix her.”

“I don’t need fixing! I’m not broken!”

“You’re right, you’re not broken. Just defective.”

“Mom? Don’t make her leave. She helps me with my homework when you’re not home. Please. I’ll miss her if you make her-“

“Shut up. This isn’t for little children to discuss. Take your dinner to your room and eat there. This is the last time you’ll be seeing your sister.”

“But-“

“No. Say your goodbyes now then go to your room.”

Your little brother gets out of his seat and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your legs before hugging you tight, mumbling “I’ll miss you. Sorry mom and dad are making you leave. If- if it counts for something I- I don’t think you’re defective.”

You hug him back, giving his hair a ruffle before letting him go, a sad smile on both your faces. “I’ll see you again someday, kiddo. Be good.”

“Unlike you, your brother isn’t a disappointment to this family.”

You wake with a start upon a knocking on your door, you feel panic surge through you thinking it was your mother about to verbally berate you but then you hear a soft voice. “Yn? May I come in? I thought it best to discuss with you what happens in the morning before lessons start.” You feel your cheeks heat up and pull the duvet up to cover you as you sit up, “uhm yeah- yeah you can come in.”

The doorhandle turns and the door swings open, revealing a youthful Cordelia, her long blonde locks tied back in a ponytail; if you hadn’t known who she was, you would have thought an angel had lost its way, she was beautiful. You look away not wanting to get caught staring, suddenly finding the ceiling to be the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen.

“Hey! Is that the new girl!? It’s the new girl! Co-“ Cordelia closes the door, shaking her head and letting out a quiet sigh before turning back to face you. “And here I was trying to make sure you would have a relatively peaceful morning, but it seems that the girls have other things in mind.”

You laugh lightly and shrug, “I’ll have to get use to it sooner or later so it’s alright.” She hums a bit, clasping her hands together at her waist. “So… We usually have breakfast together. Some mornings it’s a pleasant affair but then there are mornings where Madison decides to start drama…”

Cordelia trails off, a light blush colouring her cheeks “I- I probably shouldn’t talk like that but… there isn’t much point trying to sugar coat things. It was a lot worse when mother was staying here, as soon as she had some alcohol in her there is no stopping her. But that’s in the past anyway. She’s off traveling” she gestures vaguely with her hands “somewhere.”

You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle laughter, it seems like you’re not the only one who has a tempestuous relationship with their mother. “You’re not laughing at me, are you? It’s not a good look for a new student to laugh at her Headmistress.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing, it’s not that you were laughing at her but the situation in itself was pretty funny. “I- I’m not I swear” you manage to get out through little fits of laughter “It’s just funny that’s all.” She rolls her eyes but smiles “I doubt you’ll be laughing when mother has a fit and tosses you across the room. God… I really need her to stop doing that.”

Cordelia walks over to your curtains and opens them, flooding the small room with natural light, the golden and bubble-gum hues of the sunrise bringing life to the otherwise dull walls. “You’ll be fine. I doubt she’s returning home any time soon.”

She turns to look at you, a small smile on her face. “I should let you get dressed so you can get downstairs to have something to eat. I try getting breakfast over and done with before 10am but there are usually a few stragglers that appear later and pick at what’s left in the fridge. I’ll talk to the girls and try to get them to not hound you.”

You thank her and she makes her way over to the door, she rests her hand on the doorhandle, looking down before looking back at you. “I’m sorry that you came here because you had no other choice. I promise you that I won’t give up on you, regardless of what path you take in life.” She gives you a sad smile before leaving, the door closing quietly behind her.

#Cordelia Goode #Cordelia Goode imagine #Cordelia Goode x reader #Cordelia foxx #Cordelia foxx imagine #Cordelia foxx x reader #Sarah Paulson #Sarah paulson imagine #Sarah paulson x reader #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs coven

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

no cap katsuki nonconing yn in a alleyway calling her stupid for wandering the streets alone b4 spitting in her face n burying his face n ha chest and being all slobbery and gross, getting off from her thighs and neglecting her cunt just cuz he thinks shes enjoying it even doe she aint- nasty bakugou lives in my head rent free i tell ya.

All tea all facts bro

(Warnings - NSFW, noncon, Dubcon, dirty talk, thigh fucking, degradation, sex worker mention)

He’d just shove you up against the wall, press his chest against yours while he’s staring you down, absolutely ripping into you about what a stupid little whore.

“You’re a desperate bitch, aren’t you? You gotta be, wandering around, dressed in that shit.” He’s talking about your skirt. It’s modest, knee-length and warm, not at all scandalous, nor perverted, but Katsuki is, so he sees it that way.

“Dumb slut, I bet you wanted someone to do this to you, were looking for someone to feel you up in a dark alleyway. God, I hate little whores like you, piss me the fuck off.”

While he’s spewing hatred, his hands are caressing your trembling body, grabbing at the curve of your waist, digging into the fat of your ass, dipping down to squeeze at the outside of your thigh, teasing. You’re too afraid and shocked to say anything, to do anything but stand there and let it happen.

Within a second, he has his hand up your shirt, quickly shucking it up over your chest to reveal your bra, barking out a laugh.

“What the fuck is that? What the hell, you can’t even put in any effort? Damn.” Demeaning you for your plain bra, he was making you feel self conscious and embarrassed, face heating up as you shuffled further into the wall, lips pressed tightly together as you withered in discomfort.

Katsuki laughed again, before reaching around to unclip it, essentially bear hugging you in the process. You’re struggling to breathe, arms trapped by your sides as he fiddles with the clasp of your bra for a second, before succeeding in undoing it.

The man quickly rips the fabric away from your body, leaving your chest bare, shirt pushed up by your armpits.

Only then does your brain finally process what’s happening, and you whimper, hands rising to cover your chest, body trying to turn away, shrinking down and in on yourself.

“Stop, sir, this is-this is bad, I’ll call the police, please stop!” But Katsuki just laughs again, grabbing your biceps and wrenching your arms away from your body, using his grip to haul you upright again. Like this, he was free to leer at your body all he wanted, a wide grin stretched across his face.

“Oh fuck off, you know that’s a lie. This isn’t bad, you’re asking for it, wandering around this late. What are you, a damn prostitute looking for a customer?”

That stung, but before you could retort, the man was hunching over, nuzzling his face against your chest, nose cold against your warm skin.

He groaned, pushing you further back into the wall as he began mouthing at your skin, leaving slobbery kisses all over your breasts, occasionally stopping to bite at a nipple.

You squeaked, afraid to make too much noise. The entrance to the alley was right there, what if someone walked by and saw you being molested? What would they think of you? You wanted to cry, but couldn’t find the tears.

Katsuki groaned again, and you shuddered when he straightened, pressing his lower half flush against your front. “Feel that?” ‘that’ was his prick, digging into your hip. “All for you. You want it, don’tcha? Damn prissy slut, bet you’re soaked under that skirt, acting like you aren’t fucking loving this, aren’t getting off on me suckin’ on your tits.”

And then you were being shoved to the ground, turned onto your back.

The concrete was almost cold, slightly chilly against your back, shirt still bunched uncomfortably underneath your armpits, digging into your shoulder blades where they rested against the concrete.

Katsuki was moving fast above you, hiking your skirt up, snickering at your plain panties (it’s not like you had planned on getting assaulted today, forgive you). He pushed your knees towards your chest, back protesting as it was stretched uncomfortably.

“Ow, oh, please wait! Sir, don’t do this, please.” You whined, hands curling into fists. You wanted to hold onto something, to ground yourself as you were manhandled, but there was nothing nearby.

“You like that rape role-play shit? Fucking creep, dirty little pervert. I can be rougher if you want, break a few bones.” Katsuki offered, reaching for one of your hands.

“No!” Snatching it towards your chest, your voice high and shrill, Katsuki just shrugged, before undulating his cheeks as he gathered the saliva in his mouth. His next movement was to spit on you, on your cheek, warm saliva suprising you as you registered the sound of him spitting.

He was disgusting.

Knees pushed to your chest, the man wiped the spit off your face, mumbling about your “goddamn makeup” as he did so, before rubbing his spit on the inside of your thighs, right above your knees.

And then he was above you, practically kneeling as he straddled you, pressing his dick between the tight squeeze of your thighs.

When had he gotten his dick out?

You could feel his foreskin, feel the tapered head, the thick base, his wrinkly balls as they touched the back of your thighs. A shiver passed through you at the barrage of sensations, and you struggled to keep yourself calm. Katsuki mistook it as a shiver of something else.

“Y’know, I bet anyone walking by would be able to see your stupid panties.” He was right - with your knees pressed to your chest, Katsuki sliding his cock through your thighs as he kneeled over you, practically straddling your chest, made sure that your panties were on full display.

That fear invaded your mind, filling your senses until it was all you could think about.

Not the man grunting as he messily speared through your thighs, uttering occasional swears.

Not the roughness of the concrete against your back, the uncomfortable stretch of your hips as Katsuki pressed your legs together, keeping them glued to your body at the same time.

“You’re soaked, I just know it. Want me to touch your dirty cunt? Your little fuck-hole? I think you don’t deserve that, you’re enjoying this too damn much already.” The man spat cruelly, moving against your more fevershiyl as he worked himself up.

You could feel the tip of his cock prod your chest on each thrust, peeking out from between your thighs, and it made you sick.

Just close your eyes, and he’d finish soon.

When the man did finish, it was all over the back of your thighs, stripping his cock with one hand, eyes closed in bliss as he moaned around his release.

You considered it a blessing that he didn't touch you further after that, just began tucking himself away.

“Damn, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be. You aren’t half-bad at this, although you could work on your fucking attitude, it was like pounding into a limp fish. Least you could do is try to keep your thighs together.” Katsuki snickered, hovering over you as he zipped up his jeans. “If you wanted me to stay longer, you just need to say so.” His face soured a second later. “But don’t fuckin’ try to hold me back next time, make me fuckin’ cum, got it?”

And then he was gone, leaving you to deal with the mess of cum striping the back of your thighs.

Lovely

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #tw degradation #dark katsuki #dark Katsuki bakugou #yandere katsuki

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retvenkos · 3 years

Text

sugar and icing | r.b.

HSMTMTS - Ricky Bowen x reader, fluff

tw: mentions of divorce

word count: 2.5k

A/N: @ my followers - thank you for reminding me that ricky bowen is a sweetheart who deserves the world.

prompt: we’re making cookies in the middle of the night while drinking hot chocolate, and wow your hair is messy but it looks so cute

Festive music drifted from the kitchen and dispersed throughout the house, almost covering the sounds of bumping cupboards and shuffling feet as (Y/n) rooted through the cupboards, looking for ingredients. (Y/n) had found their grandparents’ recipe for sugar cookies and, wanting to try their hand at baking, decided to ignore the mountain homework that mocked their holiday spirit, make a mug of hot chocolate, and get to work making cookies from scratch.

Wham!’s Last Christmas was finishing off it’s second to last chorus when there was a knock at the door. A text vibrated in the pocket of (Y/n)’s jeans immediately after, and they figured it was another relative or another, stopping by to drop off food and gifts.

“Be there in a minute!” (Y/n) called from their place in the pantry, still trying to grab the sugar that was trapped behind stacks of canned vegetables.

A muffled “okay” greeted them, and (Y/n) managed to slide the sugar out of its hiding place. When they finally opened the door, they were pleasantly shocked by who was waiting for them.

“Hey, Ricky.” Their tone was softer than they expected, revealing some of the tenderness beneath. If Ricky noticed, he made no mention of it, only smiled in greeting, shifting the backpack on his shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

Ricky raised an eyebrow, the smile on his lips faltering just a bit. “You’re joking right?”

From inside, the oven beeped, announcing that it had been preheated. Ricky looked past (Y/n), peering into their home, expression turning into something akin to confusion. (Y/n) opened their mouth to make some response but faltered. Had they missed something?

(Y/n) slapped the pocket that had their phone in it. Suddenly, the text that they received seemed a bit important.

“I’m here for our English project.” Ricky supplied, the end of his statement sounding like a question. Realization dawned on (Y/n), a wave of relief that ended with a sour feeling in their stomach.

“Right,” (Y/n) let out a mix between a nervous chuckle and sigh. “I completely forgot about that, sorry.”

Ricky shrugged off their apology, seemingly more amused than anything else, and (Y/n) let him inside, already starting to complain about their English teacher. After all, who gives a lengthy project during a break?

(Y/n) led Ricky into the kitchen, where they had abandoned their school supplies on the dining table. They gestured to a seat where Ricky could set down his backpack and started rifling through their own, trying to find the folder where they had placed the instructions. (Y/n) continued to ramble, but when Ricky made no sound of response, they turned to him.

Ricky was paused by the kitchen counter, his eyes locked onto the mess that was strewn across the counter - ingredients, baking sheets, measuring cups and cookies cutters. (Y/n) rolled their eyes, walking to the oven to turn it off. “I was going to do some baking. I should have been preparing for this project, though.”

Ricky closed his mouth, making all the gestures to hum, but failing to make a sound. There was something sad in Ricky’s demeanor, a shift that made (Y/n) stand still, for a moment, letting their hand rest on the handle of the oven. The festive music was still playing and the house was much more warm with the oven having been on, but for a moment (Y/n) felt frozen. Their thoughts came to rest on the boy in front of them, sobering their mood.

He’d had a rough year, hadn’t he?

“You bake?” and his voice was distant, with a tinge of melancholy.

“Not much, no. I just found an old recipe and thought I’d try my hand,” they replied. Ricky blinked and nodded his head, bringing himself out of his stupor. He caught (Y/n)’s eye and they smiled gently. “Why do you ask?”

He averted his eyes. “My mom and I used to bake.... every year.” A ghost of a smile made its way onto his face. “Sugar cookies, too.”

(Y/n) hummed in acknowledgement, messing with the hem of their shirt. “The holidays must be rough.”

“Yeah,” Ricky sighed, “It’s just going to be me and my dad, this year - and he’s not much of a baker.” (Y/n) scoffed, and it was just enough to bring Ricky’s gaze back to them. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

“Maybe, one day.”

He nodded, again. His curls bounced with the movement.

“Until then—” (Y/n) leaned back over the stove to restart the oven “—do you want to bake with me?”

Ricky’s eyes opened wide in shock, and for a moment, he was quiet. (Y/n) smiled at him and he eventually shrugged, pushing back the sleeves of his sweater. “Sure,” he breathed, “Why not?”

“You’re in charge of the most important parts, then.” (Y/n) walked over to turn up the music and Ricky washed his hands in the kitchen sink, still smiling softly to himself. “You’re making my family very happy, deciding to help out.”

“Oh yeah?” Ricky tossed the towel he used to dry his hands over his shoulder and (Y/n) passed him the butter. He put it in the mixing bowl and then took a glance at the recipe card, asking (Y/n) to measure out the sugar so he could cream the two together.

(Y/n) bumped shoulders with him when they poured it in. “I’m pretty sure they were worried I was going to light the house of fire. They went to visit relatives for the weekend, and they made a point of double checking the smoke alarm before they left.”

Ricky chuckled and (Yn) committed the sound to memory. “I can see why.”

(Y/n) gasped, just barely containing a laugh. “What do you mean?”

“The oven doesn’t need to be on until after the dough has chilled for three hours.”

(Y/n) could feel their cheeks get hot in embarrassment, and Ricky raised his eyebrows playfully.

“You’re terrible, you know that?” (Y/n) mumbled, turning off the oven once again.

“Oh, I know—” (Y/n) scoffed “—Pass me the egg?”

A new song blasted from the speakers and the two got to work, knocking elbows as they continued to go through the recipe. (Y/n) tried to sneak in an extra teaspoon of vanilla but Ricky had caught them red handed, and in retaliation threw a bit of flour their way. (Y/n) couldn’t be bested, and after the ensuing war, (Y/n)’s jeans were smeared with flour and Ricky’s cheeks and hair were powdered white.

When they popped the dough in the freezer to chill, (Y/n) made Ricky a hot chocolate, claiming that it would be the best he had ever tasted. Maybe they didn’t know how to bake, but (Y/n) made a mean mug of chocolaty goodness. When they passed him the mug, (Y/n) couldn’t stop themselves from smiling. It had been a while since they had seen him this carefree - with mussed hair, a dopey smile on his face, and his sweater rolled up to his elbows.

“You’re right.” Ricky inclined his head in mock reverence, laughter still burning in his eyes. “This is truly the best cup of hot chocolate I’ve ever had.”

“Told you. It’s all in the milk.” (Y/n) leaned against the counter with a contented sigh, allowing themself a moment of peace before diving into the English project that still lay on the dining table, woefully unfinished. They could complete a good deal of it in the three hours the dough needed to chill, and since Ricky’s dad was working all day and (Y/n)’s family wouldn’t be back until Monday, they had all the time in the world.

Ricky, ever observant, caught their gaze and appraised the weight of their sudden bout of pensivity. Deciding it wasn’t anything too severe, he took another sip of his hot chocolate, allowing Baby, It’s Cold Outside to take precedence. For a moment, the two just basked in the other’s presence.

“Thanks, for this.” Ricky eventually spoke, his hand tracing the rim of his mug. “The baking, I mean. It was fun and... it made me forget for a while.”

“Of course,” and there was no denying the sweetness in (Y/n)’s voice, the softness that was only meant for the two of them. Ricky must have noticed it this time, because his brown eyes sparkled with a particular type of fondness that made the room brighten.

(Y/n) looked down their mug, and the dark liquid that sat within. “And Ricky,” they took in a breath, “I know things are changing, but I’ll always have a place for you, if you ever need one.”

A silence followed their words, and (Y/n) didn’t dare move, wondering if they had somehow overstepped, or pushed him over the edge.

Then, Ricky’s had closed over theirs, warm and tight. (Y/n) looked up and Ricky had grateful tears in his eyes, pooling but not quite spilling. Even still, he was beautiful in a way that few managed.

“And,” (Y/n) all but whispered, “if these cookies are half as good as I hope they are, I’ll be calling you at all odd hours of the day to have you make them for me. You won’t be able to get rid of me, even if you tried.”

Ricky laughed lamely, pulling his hand away to wipe at his wet eyelashes.

“I don’t think I want to get rid of you.”

(Y/n) didn’t dare breathe for the few seconds that his words still bounced in their mind. “That’s good.” (Y/n) smiled and crossed the room, grabbing the things needed for their project, not not missing the way Ricky’s eyes followed them, but trying to force the butterflies in their stomach to focus on anything else.

“So,” (Y/n) slid Ricky’s bag over to him and sat their own supplies down on the freshly wiped counter. “Wuthering Heights, huh? Ready to slave over it for the next three hours?”

Ricky made a noncommittal shrug, but he slaved anyway; between mugs of hot chocolate, dollops of royal icing, and the occasional wayward glance at the other, the two worked on their English project semi-effectively. By the time they were done, the sky had darkened outside, stars just peeking out of the inky black sky. Despite their hot drinks, the cold was creeping in and when it was time to preheat the oven, both were grateful.

After three hours, (Y/n) didn’t want to write about any Catherine’s ever again, their brain completely fried by the moor metaphors and the cousin relationships. Ricky didn’t seem to be faring any better, still reeling from the idea that Heathcliff was both a romantic hero and the antihero of the story.

Suffice to say, when they had finished for the night, both (Y/n) and Ricky were immensely grateful. Rolling out the dough and cutting out star shaped cookies was a welcome distraction from their homework, and when the smell of baked sugar cookies filled the air, (Y/n) agreed with the singer on the radio that it was, indeed, the most wonderful time of the year.

Decorating the cookies had been harder than it looked, (Y/n) quickly learning that piping bags were surprisingly difficult to work with. Despite getting more icing on their hands than the cookie, Ricky has said they did a great job - much better than he did, the first time he baked sugar cookies. Both of them had rummaged through the cabinets and when they found red sprinkles, (Y/n) had covered their cookies in them, hiding the imperfections.

(Y/n) was licking the icing off of their fingers when it was finally Ricky’s time to impress with his decorating prowess.

“Are you ready to be amazed?” Ricky held a piping bag with canary yellow icing, a grin on his face and a laugh on the tip of his tongue.

“So ready.”

Grabbing a sugar cookie with a more complicated edge, Ricky iced it experty, with a perfect border. In his concentration, his tongue stuck out just a little bit, making (Y/n) laugh, a sound that was infectious. Ricky tried to scold them for making him laugh, claiming it was endangering the process, but at the end of his craftsmanship, the cookie was perfectly iced, by all accounts.

“For you,” Ricky gave them the cookie with an exaggerated flourish and (Y/n) hated the way they giggled - like a lovestruck teenager who couldn’t handle their crush on their best friend.

“Well, I’d offer you one of mine, but…” (Y/n) gestured to their failed attempts at icing, their lines wobbly and the center not evenly smoothed. Ricky chuckled at their embarrassment, and picked up the worst looking cookie there was.

“I think this one’s perfect.”

(Y/n) scoffed.

“I mean it!” Ricky sounded genuine enough, but (Y/n) looked at him, deeply unimpressed. “I’ll prove it”—and he pulled his phone out of his back pocket—“by taking a photo for Instagram. I hope you know I only post the best content.”

(Y/n) washed their hands in the sink, calling over their shoulder. “Including that blurry video of you and Big Red hiding from Miss Jen?”

“That was tech week and Miss Jen was so close to killing us.” Ricky was laughing through his story, the strength of it shaking his whole body and turning his photos blurry. (Y/n) dried their hands and picked up the cookie Ricky made for them gingerly. They smiled at him a bit before nibbling at the edge of the cookie, wanting to savor it for a reason that wasn’t apparent to their conscious mind, but felt right. “We hid in the costume department and she never managed to find us.”

“I’m glad she didn’t.”

Ricky turned to (Y/n) and held their gaze for a moment, laughter dying on his lips, but his happiness omnipresent. He blinked and set down the cookie.

“See?” Ricky took a step closer to (Y/n) and angled his phone at them. On the screen was a picture of the cookie he chose, still awkward looking - even with a filter - and in the background was (Y/n), smiling at Ricky like he hung the moon and stars. “Perfect.”

It took a moment for (Y/n) to register that he wasn’t looking at the picture, anymore.

(Y/n) turned to look at Ricky, staring into his dark brown eyes as though searching for something, and found him returning their gaze. They were inches apart, close enough that it wouldn’t take much to close the gap…

“You’re perfect.” The words slipped out of their mouth before (Y/n) could stop themself. Maybe they had found what they were looking for.

Ricky’s eyes flicked down to (Y/n)’s lips, but he was quick to level them again. (Y/n) noticed some flour on his cheek and had the urge to touch his cheek and wipe it off. Ricky wet his lips before speaking. “I’m not misreading this, am I?”

“No,” (Y/n) gave their head the slightest shake and kissed Ricky, allowing their free hand to do what it desired. His cheek was hot beneath their touch and he tasted sweet - like sugar and icing.

-- taglist: @theletterhart, @brokenandheadoverheels, @neelia-thedaughtherof-athena // message me if you want to be added!

#high school musical: the musical: the series #high school musical the musical the series #hsmtmts #ricky bowen #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen x you #ricky bowen imagine #imagine #one shot #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #holiday prompt #tw mentions of divorce

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escapewriter · 3 years

Text

2:34pm

pairing : san x reader

genre : fluff, humor

ateez masterlist || main masterlist

[2:34pm] You walked quickly, praying that your coworker won’t get mad at you for being late to work. You breathed heavily as you maneuvered around people on the sidewalk, while checking the time on your phone. It was already past 2:30, you could just take your time since you were already late, but you wanted to spend more time with your coworker.

San is very good looking, and he knows it too, but the man is dense as fuck. He just doesn’t see the signs you throw at him. You asked him out on a date one time and he brought his friend because he thought you guys were just hanging out. So, either he is just oblivious, or he just doesn’t know how to turn you down.

You were approaching the convenience store you worked at when you saw San outside, cleaning the windows. Your heart rate sped up and so did your legs, but oh how you wish your legs would just stay calm because here you were, on the ground after tripping over air.

San quickly rushed to your side, carefully grabbing your arm and lifting you up. “Are you okay?” You blushed, embarrassed that he just saw you fall on your ass.

“Yeah, sorry I’m late.” You avoided eye contact as he shook his head, “No it’s okay, don’t worry about it. Come on you have some scratches we need to take care of.” He led you inside the store and into the break room, sitting you down on the bench as he grabbed a first aid kit. You didn’t realize that you had scratched your hand and knee after falling. You felt the burn after processing it.

“I’m gonna have to put some rubbing alcohol on it, so it’s going to sting.” San knelt in front of you as you nodded your head and bit your lower lip, preparing for the sting. He looked at your left knee, pouring the liquid onto the cotton pad and slowly wiped away any dirt off of your knee, causing you to wince. He looked up at you, “I’m sorry, but we can’t have this get infected,” He continued to wipe until it was clean, grabbing a new cotton pad and moved on to your left hand.

He held your hand softly, his warmth distracting you from the stinging of the alcohol as you stared at his concentrated face. He looked at you and you quickly looked at your hand that was in his much larger palm. “Did that not hurt?” You looked back to his eyes, a blush making its way onto your face as you softly spoke, “Uh, not as much as my knee.”

He nodded his head and gave you a comforting smile as he reached for some bandaids. “You know, I’ve always seen these types of things happen in TV shows or movies,” You watched him carefully place a large bandaid on your knee as he talked, zoning out a bit and just admiring him for taking care of you.

“And it kind of reminds me about how the hero saves the distressed and how romantic it is,” He grabbed your injured hand, placing a bandaid over the scratch, “I can’t help but think, maybe we’re in a movie right now.”

Your eyes moved away from his hand that was holding yours and into his piercing gaze. You didn’t know what to do, were you even hearing things correctly? “W-what?”

He smiled, releasing your hand and throwing away all the trash as well as returning the first aid kit back in its place before returning in front of you, standing this time. You looked up at him with big eyes before he leaned down and placed his hands by your legs, trapping you between him and the wall.

Your breathing began to quicken as his eyes tried to read yours, “You feel this too, right YN?” You nodded your head quickly, not knowing how to act suddenly. He giggled, his cute dimples appearing causing a smile to immediately creep on your face. “Thank god. I wasn’t sure if I was reading the signs right.”

“You idiot. I asked you out on a date and you brought fucking Wooyoung with you. I was third wheeling you both!” He laughed as he stood up straight and plopped down next to you.

“Like I said, I wasn’t sure. Why don’t I make up for it, hmm?” You tilted your head, not knowing where he was going with this but also knowing where he was going with this. “I’ll take you on a date, and this time, YOU can bring Wooyoung.”

You rolled your eyes as he laughed, “No, I’m serious YN, let me take you out on a date?” You smiled, your eyes avoiding his as you mentally prepared yourself.

“I’d love to go on a date with you San.”

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez timestamp #san #choi san #atz #escapewriter timestamp #san timestamps

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Doppelganger" *Part 8*

Okay ladies and gents, this is where I'd say you really need to have read Black Magic to understand this chapter. You can read it here.

Or, y'know I guess just accept that magic is real in this universe. Whatever. STILL READ IT. YOU WON'T REGRET IT I PROMISE.

If you read this last night, I did rewrite it and reuploaded it. Don't freak out, it's better now I swear.

I did make this signifantly longer though, but I won't lie to you kids-- it's not good. Angst wise, not plot wise. 😉

ENJOYYYYYYY!!!!

Part 7

Part 9

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

---------------

The next day Rafael decided he needed help, and if he couldn’t go to the squad, he only had one choice.

"....WHAT?!" Chloe screeched after Rafael told her the whole story after meeting up for coffee.

"I know, it's insane I just--" Rafael shook his head.

"I have so many questions. So many--" she started.

"Look I just wanted advice, and maybe …" he trailed off looking in the distance.

"Maybe what….?" She looked at him suspiciously.

"Supernatural help?" He sipped his coffee.

"Oh good God like what? Do you think that's what he used on YN?" Chloe sipped her tea.

"No doesn't need to, he can imitate me perfectly. I'm pretty sure it was just your standard date rape drug." The words made Rafael's fist clench and his lip curl at the thought of Nevada using date rape drugs on you.

"We have to get her out of there, Chloe. We have to," His voice trembled in fear for you.

"Well no shit Sherlock" Chloe pointed out. "You sure it's not the mind control stuff Liv used on you?"

"Liv didn't use mind control potions. She just used an ultra unhealthy amount of love potion. Although I wouldn't put it past her to get some more potions,” Rafael rolled his eyes.

Nearby Alex was listening in on the conversation, since Rafael knew what Javi looked like now. He listened to the rest of your conversation, then bolted before the two of you noticed him.

-----

“Magic potion?" Nevada laughed. are you fucking kidding me?! Dime qué tienen been smoking?!”

"I don't know Vada, he seemed pretty sure about it. And I mean look at the two of you, you're identical and there's no explanation for that. So I don't know, anything might be possible." Alex shrugged. "He said it's how they got together. Some chick named Olivia tried to tear them apart but their "true love" prevailed"."

"Oh , these two are even more fucking pathetic than I thought.” Nevada scoffed. “What do they live in, a fucking Disney movie?" He shook his head, but then had an idea.

"…. Seems like we might have to check with this Olivia," He smiled evilly.

--------

"Rafael" showed up to the squad room to talk to Olivia the very next day.

“Hey Liv” He nodded at her with a sly smile.

"Rafa!" Liv exclaimed. She was excited but nervous to see him. Mostly because she hadn't seen him since the whole 'wedding; debacle.

"Liv, I need you to tell me where you got your mind serum,” “Rafael” told her straight out. Olivia was shocked he was so flippant about it, and being so loud.

".... It wasn't mind serum Rafa it was love serum and-- wait why do you need it?" She looked around nervously, then quickly realized something must have gone wrong with the two of you.

"I think I'll be asking the questions here Liv, you're the one that fucked with me first." “Rafael” crossed his arms.

"You know if you need to control YN with potions, it may not be worth it Rafa.” Olivia told him softly, touching his hand. “I love you just the way you are...." She put a hand to his chest and gave him a sweet smile.

"Why do you think I'm asking? She's getting too wishy washy for me, I just want her to forget about us." Rafael put a hand to her face. "Just tell me where you got it, and we can be together."

"Ok!!" Not questioning it, Olivia started to text the address to Rafael's phone.

"No, I need you to write it down for me." “Rafael” grabbed a notepad and pen from off her desk.

"Why…?" Olivia raised an eyebrow at him.

"....So if my boss decides to do a random sweep of my phone he doesn't think I'm insane, Liv." He replied in a “duh” tone.

"...He can do that?" Oliva’s mouth dropped open.

"...The government can do a lot of things, Liv. Don’t trust them,” “Rafael” sneered. Sure Olivia should have taken that as a red flag, but she was so happy she might get her happy ending with Rafael she didn’t care.

"Right…." She wrote the address down and slipped it to "Rafael".

"Thanks babe," he grabbed Olivia in a giant kiss. Then he strutted out of the office leaving her with a huge smile.

----------

Not even a few hours later, Nevada took the address to an old antique shop. He walked in to see an old woman cleaning an ancient looking broach.

“An old antique shop, bruja? Were you going for totally predictable, or are you just lazy with fronts?”

The woman stopped cleaning and glared at him. “And who the hell are you?”

“Let’s just say I’m a friend of Olivia’s.” He smirked. “And as such, I’m going to need a favor…”

“Oh great are you a cop too?” She sighed.

“....You could say that.” He chuckled.

“So what do you need?” She looked at him skeptically.

“I need a...mind control potion,” Nevada felt like an idiot saying it out loud, but the old woman’s face verifying that such a thing existed made him feel better.

“You people and your God complexes…” She rolled her eyes before disappearing into the back. After a few minutes she came back with an orange liquid in a vial.

“Think of the name of the person you want this to control, and then once they drink this, whatever you think, they’ll do.”

“....Really?” Nevada gave her a sarcastic laugh.

“Oh you doubt my majeria, pendejo?” She snarled. “Then why are you here?”

“Lo siento, señora,” He quickly apologized. “Gracias,” He nodded to the potion and sauntered out of the shop.

--------

The next day Nevada texted Rafael to meet him in a warehouse on his side or town. Rafael immediately went to Chloe’s apartment for advice on what to do, since he didn’t have anyone else.

"This could be a trap." Chloe warned him.

"Of course it could be a trap but what choice do I have?!" Rafael argued.

"Ok but I'm coming," She insisted.

"Oh no you're not" Rafael shook his head.

"I'll stay out of sight, okay dad?” Chloe rolled her eyes.

"No, I don’t like it.” He protested while ignoring the 'dad' comment. “If something goes sideways in there I can’t protect the both of you,”

"I don't care if you like it, she's my best friend so you can suck it up," She crossed her arms. “And I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself,”

“....What’s the chances of me talking you out of this?” He sighed.

“....Ehhhh slim to none,” She smiled.

“Fine, but you’re staying outside,” He warned her as they headed to the address.

------

Rafael and Chloe went to the address, it was a giant warehouse. Rafael went inside, ready for anything. The place was pitch black so he couldn't really see anything.

"Nevada?" He called into the darkness. Suddenly one light in the middle of the warehouse lit up. He walked closer to find you lying there unconscious.

"YN!!!" He screamed, running over and waking you up.

“...What? What happened?” You stirred awake, totally disoriented. Nevada must have knocked you out again.

"Baby! it's me," He picked you up in his arms, holding you so tightly you thought you'd stop breathing. "He let you go, I can't believe it," He was crying now, he was so happy.

"...What? That makes ZERO sense," you pushed him away, looking at him angrily. "....Wait no no, it does make perfect sense-- you're Nevada!"

"What?" Rafael looked at you in shock. "... I'm not Nevada, I'm Rafael, YN! It's me!"

"Okay look I get it,” You crossed your arms. “You can’t just keep me drugged up all the time, and you need new and innovative ways to "be" Rafael-- but this is just cruel,”

“Baby it's me I-- it's me! it's Rafael,” He put his hands on either side of your face, staring intently into them. You wanted to believe him so badly, but all you could think about was the first time this happened. How perfectly Nevada had played Rafael, even down to the look in his eyes. That’s all you saw now, an act. A façade.

“....You've done a hell of a job researching him and perfecting his moves Nevada, but I'm not going to fall for it and I'm not going to keep hurting Rafa,” You pushed him away further, crossing your arms tighter so that he couldn’t get a free show of your exposed breasts in the barely there clothes he dressed you in.

Rafael stared at you in shock and disbelief, how much did he fuck with your mind? How could this be happening?

“....It's me. How else am I--- what can I do to prove to you that it's me? Y/N how can you not see it in my eyes? Look at me!” He grabbed your hands and searched your eyes for some kind of recognition, some kind of feeling.

“Yeah okay it's ‘you’. You are going to save me, and then we're going to go to some ‘safe location’ right? And then we’ll celebrate being ‘back together’ by having some amazing sex. And it’ll be wonderful and amazing, and I’ll cry and tell you how much I love you and missed you, and then you're going to be like ‘hahaha I got you again!’ I’m Not falling for it” Tears came to your eyes as you thought about all the times he had tricked you, and how much it had hurt Rafael every time. You couldn’t get the heartbreak in his eyes out of your brain.

“....God, this is exactly what he wanted…” Rafael muttered. “Carino, it's me I swear to God you have to believe me-- Look I brought Chloe!” He gestured to Chloe who came running over to the two of you.

“...Oh my God, Chloe?” Your eyes widened in seeing your best friend for the first time in days. Usually you two were attached at the hip. He brought Chloe-- Nevada didn’t know about Chloe, did he?

“....Remember the penguins? I proposed to you with the penguins, and-- and I told you that it was my favorite place in New York, and I did that nutty musical number? I worked on that for WEEKS!!! Would Nevada know that?” You heard Rafael talking while you looked from Chloe to him. You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes. They were full of tears, searching your own eyes for the same thing. Love.

“....Rafa?” You whispered, wiping the tears from his cheeks. He took your hand and kissed the side of it.

“It’s me,” He pressed his lips to your forehead. “It’s me, mi amor,”

You grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss. You could feel the difference now, between his mouth and Nevada’s. Rafael kissed you in such a loving, beautiful way. Nevada groped your mouth like a hungry shark. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him several times on the neck, not getting enough of him. He ran his fingers through your hair as his lips did the same to your face and neck.

Suddenly, a lone clap came from behind you.

“Awwww. No es tan dulce?” Nevada came stepping out of the shadows. “The two lovers, finally reunited. Es tan hermoso,” He wiped away a non-existent tear.

“....What the hell …?” Rafael asked while he helped you both stand up, Rafael stood in front of you protectively.

“Well I had to get some ‘inside’ information didn’t I, cabron? I can’t have you feeding her information only ‘you’ would know to try and break a spell, ¿Correcto??” Nevada crossed his arms as several men came out of the shadows all around you.

“....Spell?” You blinked, trying to play dumb. How did he know about magic?

“Oh shit…” You heard Chloe whisper as she and Rafael exchanged a guilty look. They really should have thought about having that conversation in private.

“I visited your friend, Olivia. She told me where I could find some very interesting...concoctions,” Nevada smirked as he held up an orange vial.

“What? No...no no no!!!!” Rafael’s head darted back and forth as Nevada’s goons inched towards you. Two of them pulled out pistols and aimed them right at him while two more walked up and grabbed you, dragging you away from Rafael.

“No...No! RAFAEL!!!” You screamed, trying to get away from them. He tried to run to you, but two more grabbed him by the arms and put him on his knees.

“...I don't know what the hell it is but don't you dare give her anything else!!!” Rafael yelled as the two men that had you dragged you over to Nevada.

“Oh okay, well just because you said that SO nicely, abogado,” Nevada nodded sarcastically as he grabbed your face.

“Now, open up baby. I know you can swallow,” He smirked while looking between the two of you. You shook your head violently, but Nevada gripped your nose between his fingers preventing you from breathing. You held out as long as you could, but you finally had to gasp for air. As soon as you did so, Nevada poured the orange liquid down your throat. After a few moments, your irises flashed a deep orange.

“....Vada,” You looked at Nevada with dreamy eyes as Rafael stared in horror.

“Finalmente I can stop wearing those God awful trajes,” Nevada grinned, stroking your cheek softly before looking at Rafael.

“And y’know, your girlfriend Olivia really should have just opted for this mind control potion, it works so much more efficiently. Pero, if I had just made your little puta in love with me, I couldn’t get her to do this,” He turned to you. “Baby, go take care of that hijo de puta, para mi,”

“Anything for you, papi,” You nodded with a smile, then turned to Rafael with a deep raging fire in your eyes.

“Let’s dance abogado,” You growled.

“No! No, Y/N you can't do this! I'm not going to hurt you,” He pleaded with you.

“Well that sucks for you,” You lunged for him, but he grabbed you by your arms. “

“Hey no no no, look at me!” He forced you to look at him. “Remember the penguins? I took you to see the penguins and I--"

Nevada closed his eyes and changed your memory with his.

”Nevada took me to penguins and that's how we got engaged, you lying piece of shit!!!” You yelled at him.

“….Fuck that’s what he meant. Now he’s used that against me,” Rafael grunted in frustration as you wriggled in his arms. “Y/N you have to believe me you love me, not Nevada. You love me!!”

“No, I DON’T!!!!” You broke free and started to punch him, but he threw you to the ground.

“...You're going to regret that,” You sneered, getting back up.

“I already do!” Rafael began to cry. He didn't want to hurt you, but he had no other choice.

“Alright, break it up,” Chloe stepped in trying to reason with you.

“And who are you? His bitch?” You snarked at her.

“Oh God now what? I'm your best friend, Chloe! We’ve been friends since you moved to the city! forever I helped you get Rafael, remember? All the hijinks we had to go through? Y/N you're my best friend come on, remember!”

“....I don't know what the hell you're talking about bitch, but if you’re against Nevada, you’re against me!” You lunged for Chloe. Unfortunately for you, Chloe had no qualms about kicking your ass. She punched you, making you go down.

“Chloe what the fuck are you doing?!” Rafael yelled angrily at her.

“Wha-- she was trying to kick my ass!” Chloe defended herself.

Well as much as I enjoy this, I'm going to need a status on that transfer, Barba,” Nevada stepped in and helped you to your feet. You started to lunge for Chloe again but Nevada held you back.

“Down girl, you’ll get her next time,” He pulled on the collar of your dress like heeling a dog. You straightened up and walked into his arms. He draped one of them around you as he smiled triumphantly at Chloe and Rafael.

“Well if you would let me work instead of fucking with my emotions and fucking with my fiancé's head I might have some time to do it, tarado!” Rafael barked while glaring at the two of you. “Why are you even doing this, don't you want me to fight for her?”

“Yeah I thought about that,” He nodded, moving his arms around your waist and pulling you back into his chest as you smirked at Rafael.

“And having her on my side actually works out better for me, because you can't hurt me if I have her as my guard dog,” He chuckled, pulling you to face him as he gave you a hungry kiss.

“I swear to God, Nevada… I'll….” Rafael started to charge Nevada, seeing you all over him in person was ten times worse than having to witness it over a face call.

“You'll what?” Nevada challenged him with a laugh. "You gonna call your cop friends on your 'true love?!'” He air quoted true love with a mocking sneer.

“That's right she is my true love; and our love has beat stronger things than your manipulation or mind potions,” He spat as Nevada’s goons began to surround him again in case he tried anything.

"Oh I very much doubt that." He smiled wickedly as he looked into your eyes. "Go on baby, tell him why you chose me" He nodded at Rafael. You nodded back and stepped towards Rafael with hatred in your orange eyes. Nevada thought of the perfect speech to really destroy him.

"Nevada is a real man Barba, he's pleasured me in ways you can't even think of. Our love was fake, you just kept me under your own spell. Nothing we had was actually real, and you're just gonna have to get over this obsession you have with me." You crossed your arms and spoke with absolute disdain.

"No….." Rafael's eyes filled with tears more and more after every word you spoke. "No!" He grabbed you and pulled you towards him. Nevada’s goons started to go after him but Vada put a hand up.

"Ah ah ah, señores. This will be more fun," He grinned.

"Baby come on, look he's...he’s just going to let you go!” Rafael tried to get you to go with him.

"Please, carino…." He put both hands on your face but all he could see was orange in your irises. Now he knew how you must have felt at the church when he didn't remember you. But then he remembered how the real him was deep down inside, screaming to get out. You had to be there too.

“....Rafa…?” Your head began to pound, the orange in your eyes began to flicker as the real you tried to break through.

“Yes, yes Y/N Baby it’s me!” A small hopeful smile crawled across his lips. He started speaking as fast as he could to draw you out more.

"....Carino, remember you told me about your parents, and I told you about my dad, and-- We beat Liv, we've prevailed over anything that tries to tear us apart. And I know you are in there, because I know I was in my body too. Please baby please, oh god please, YN you have to remember!” He pressed his forehead to yours as he begged you with whimpers and tears.

“Baby…”? You bit your lip as you tried like hell to fight the potion. Rafael rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.

“....If you go back to him now--I'll lose you forever. He’ll just keep using you against me, and I won’t hurt you!” He hugged you tightly, your arms slowly raised to hug him back. Nevada saw what was unfolding and quickly thought to himself “NO. YOU’RE MINE. HURT HIM.”

Suddenly the orange flared in your eyes once again, and you pushed him away from you.

“Well that's really unfortunate for you, douchebag. Because I can,” You took one swift kick to his stomach and he fell over to the ground

“Ohhhhh shit!!!!!” Nevada clapped his hands together happily.

"That was even more delicious than I could have imagined, this magic thing is the best. Thanks for the tip, bruja,” Nevada nodded at Chloe who just glared at him as she helped Rafael up on his feet.

"This isn't over," he growled.

"You're right, you still need to get me those transfers" Nevada reminded him. “....And I think that red head will help you out, I may have 'made up' with her for you," He added with a wink.

“Oh for fucks sake…” Rafael groaned. Now he had lost you and he'd have to break Liv’s heart all over again.

“Now I'd leave before I set my queen loose on you," Nevada cackled.

“Let's go Rafa, we'll figure something out,” Chloe pulled him away from you and out of the warehouse.

Rafael knew you were in there, he just knew it. He was going to get you back somehow.

#rafael barba #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanficton #nevada ramirez fanfiction #nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez x you #nevada ramirez x reader #trouble in the heights #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #doppelganger

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aliendes · 4 years

Text

Natural Borns - Chapter Ten

Banner by @thebannershop

Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, smut (NSFW)

Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)

Warnings: crying, shitty medical descriptions (probably), depression, cursing, anxiety, forced medical practices, restraints, alcohol consumption

Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?

Word count: 4k~

A/N: I’m sorry, this is unedited.

“I’ll be back in a few hours for your next round, dear,” Soomin says as she finishes up with your leg and leaves you. You lay flat on your back, staring at the ceiling with no emotion in your eyes, but oceans of tears falling from them. You let your eyelids slip shut after a few minutes, but you’re never able to fully fall asleep.

Soomin kept her promise and ended up coming back a few hours later. That visit was no better than the first you experienced, having been connected to those damned straps. After her second attack on your body, which you idly think isn’t technically her fault, she removed your hands from the restraints, telling you someone would be by in the morning to bring you in for ‘testing’. Her words were ominous, and while you really wanted to ask her to elaborate, you decided it would probably be better for your psyche if you didn’t know.

She had allowed you to change into a white sweatshirt and sweatpants, but wouldn’t leave the room for you to do so. Once again, for the nth time since you arrived here, you felt stripped of your basic human rights. This is how things are here, you suppose. You felt like they must be trying to break you. You wanted to be strong, but it was hard. You wanted to hold on to the fact that the boys were safe, presumably. At least they weren’t here, and that was a significant win in your mind.

Soomin left a few hours ago, and now you were curled up in a small ball on the too small bed in the too cramped white room. White. You remember your mom telling you when you were young that white was the color of purity, the color of peace. The doves you would see at the farmer’s market on the weekends were white, and you loved to stare at them while they pecked at the ground. The memory makes an involuntary tear slip out of your eye.

Now, white was all you could see. It definitely wasn’t bringing you any peace, and purity? You internally scoff as another tear falls. You haven’t even been here a full twenty four hours, yet you feel like any purity you did have left in you is about to be torn away without your permission. You feel cold, empty, used. You shudder to think about how much more they were going to take from you in here.

You sniffle, bringing a hand up to swipe at the tears falling across your cheeks. It’s no use, as more just seem to be slipping out. Pursing your lips, you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. What were you supposed to do, other than submit and let them take from you? If you had any hope of getting out of here with your sanity intact, you figure you have no other option than to let whatever is going to happen to you, happen. Your lip trembles as a silent sob wracks your body.

Your entire life has been a lie, at least, that’s the way it’s feeling to you right now. You feel like cattle, raised and cared for, only to be sold and shipped off to the slaughter house where you’d meet your demise. Killed, packaged, and consumed. A sick metaphor, but it felt fitting.

You try to take a deep breath, but it ends up being a shaky inhale, unable to get your breathing under control fully. You have no idea how long you lay like that, sobbing to no one, trapped in a prison of your own thoughts.

The sleep that your body eventually succumbs to is fitful at best, and all you dream about is manic faces, all closing in on you like a caged animal. Hands reaching out to grab you, touch you, take from you.

“Thanks for staying up for us.”

“Of course, Namjoon,” the burly man, known as Wonho replies easily as he holds open the large steel door, “anything for our precious leader.” Namjoon could hear the playful lilt to Wonho’s voice, so he let the comment slide with only a nod in response. He wasn’t in the mood for jokes, and Wonho seemed to get the picture when the purple haired man shouldered past him into the building. The smirk was wiped from Wonho’s face as he watched the six other men walk past him, varying expressions of exhaustion and pain written across their faces.

The seven had traveled from the forest through the bustling city of Seoul. After hearing from Yeonjun that you were indeed being held at the Big Hit facility, Namjoon made a call to Wonho, a natural born who owned an underground casino in the heart of Seoul. It was an illegal operation, but brought in a lot of money to help their shared cause, their shared vision of attaining equality within this fucked society.

Wonho had agreed, of course, to let them stay at the casino. There were extra rooms that his associates rented out, and most of them were vacant at the moment. The young entrepreneur was one of Namjoon’s only friends from middle school and they had reconnected after Namjoon’s escape from the facility when they met at a homeless shelter. Coincidentally, the same homeless shelter Namjoon and Yoongi would meet Seokjin and Jungkook later.

It took the group all day and well into the night to arrive at the rundown building, as it was nearing two in the morning at this point. They were all exhausted, sweaty, and for lack of a better word, broken.

The seven of them shuffled down the dark hallways, mostly shielded from the noises of the casino underneath them. It was housed in an old decrepit building that used to be a cafe once upon a time. Now, Wonho had refurbished the inside well enough to resemble somewhat of a home, with two stories of rooms, a kitchenette, and a small den. The outside was still old and rundown looking, to deter authorities or everyday normal people from investigating.

A side entry door to the building led to a basement, and a series of underground hallways that housed game rooms and offices, which is where Wonho spent most of his time, managing the casino and other dealings. Tonight, though, his associates were taking care of business so he could wait for Namjoon and his crew.

Namjoon reached the door leading to what he knew was the den located on the first floor of the building, waiting for Wonho to catch up to him. The others huddled in the small space, none of them looking at each other, actively trying to avoid any kind of eye contact.

“Three rooms upstairs are empty,” Wonho huffs out as he reaches the others, eyes on their leader, “but I think you and I should have a talk.”

Namjoon gives his friend a curt nod, before turning his attention to the others. None of them look up at him, eyes trained on the floor or the wall in front of them. Another piece of his heart cracks at the sight, “You guys head up, I’ll be there shortly.” Yoongi is the only one who meets his eye, albeit briefly, giving a short nod before turning on his heel, grabbing Hoseok by the sleeve and moving towards the stairs.

Namjoon watches as they all shuffle up the stairs slowly, clutching onto one another in support, in exhaustion or hurt, he wasn’t sure. Once they all disappeared from his sight, he turned his attention back to the platinum haired man in front of him. “After you.”

Wonho surveys Namjoon for a moment. He looks different, older, even though it’s only been a few months since they last saw each other. Wonho isn’t privy to all the inner workings of their group dynamics, but he does know how strongly he cares for his friends. He had also heard about you, how could he have not? You were all Namjoon talked about when he did call, or when they had meetings. The natural born girl, the rare woman who had no idea exactly how precious she was.

Wonho wasn’t one of the ‘special’ ones, no, just a normal natural born. He had to face his own discriminations throughout his life, but nothing like what Namjoon or the others had gone through. He wasn’t about to pretend like he knew how Namjoon felt, he wasn’t going to act like he understood. He did, however, believe in what Namjoon stood for - equality. That’s what everyone in their secret group wanted. That shared belief was what brought them all together in the first place. What formed the Allegiance, a group of natural borns and designer babies who fought for the rights of natural borns.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Joon,” Wonho started as he walked through the door to the den, heading straight for the small bar, “wouldn’t hurt to check-in every now and then, you know?”

Namjoon follows towards the bar, watching as his old friend grabs two small glasses and a bottle of dark liquor. “We speak at least once a week, Seok.”

Wonho raises a brow at the nickname, “You know I don’t go by that anymore.”

Namjoon smirks, “No one’s here, Seok-ie. Besides, I never really liked Wonho.”

The blonde purses his lips but continues to pour the drinks, passing the glass across the bar top when he finishes. “Tell me about her.”

Namjoon perks up at the mention of you, but doesn’t meet Wonho’s eye, instead taking the glass and swirling the liquid around in it. “Not much to tell,” he starts, taking a swig of the alcohol and wincing from the burn, “didn’t really have much time to get to know her.”

Wonho watches as his friend takes another sip of his drink, swirling his own glass in his hand. His knowing eyes never leave Namjoon’s form, surveying the man from top to bottom. He looked tired, and not just physically tired. Wonho could see the exhaustion in his face, in his eyes. Namjoon used to have some of the most expressive eyes, an emotive face, but with age and experience, his features have become sharper, more defined, and more empty.

“You’ll get her back,” Wonho muses, bringing his glass up to his lips finally and taking a quick drink, used to the harsh flavour of the liquor, “Yeonjun-ie is in there with her, yeah?”

The purple haired man nodded solemnly, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Yeah,” he drawled, thinking of the right words to say. He looks up at Wonho and then takes a quick look around the room, eyeing the door to make sure it’s closed and there are no listening ears. “We don’t have much time, Seok-ie,” Wonho winces at the name, but nods along anyways, “Yeonjun told me what they’re planning, what they- they’re going to do to her.” Namjoon sets his glass down on the bar, elbows resting on the cool wood and rubs a hand down his face. He shakes his head before looking back up at his friend.

Wonho looks conflicted. He knows that Namjoon is an empath by nature, a martyr by choice, and a leader by force. He understands that Namjoon will put anyone before himself, and cares deeply for those, who in his eyes, he wants to save from the horrors of the world. Wonho knows the other man will do whatever it takes to get you back, and so there is no use trying to talk him out of it, no matter how bad of an idea he thinks it is. They barely know you, Wonho knows he wouldn’t risk himself and his closest friends, family even, for a girl who probably doesn’t care about them either way. But he’s not going to push, he knows where that’ll get him.

“Joon,” Wonho starts, setting his glass down and walking around the bar to place a comforting hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, “you guys can stay here however long you need. I’m here for you, man. You know that.”

Namjoon nods to his friend, eyes still trained on the bar top, “Thanks, Seok.”

Upstairs, the others have split up between the three available rooms, Jungkook and Jin in their own room, Hoseok, Jimin, Tae in another, while Yoongi waits in the third for Namjoon. Most of them have showered and replaced their dirty, wet clothes with extras from the wardrobe in Namjoon and Yoongi’s room, a culmination of left-over clothes from Wonho’s employees or ex-lovers, they assume.

Jimin and Tae were the last to shower, letting the others wash the day away first, allowing Jin and Jungkook to get settled so they could have their private conversations, their private moment with each other, the others knew they needed it.

Jimin stepped out of the shower and was immediately handed a towel by a dripping wet Taehyung, to which he gave the younger a sad smile. The two stood in a comfortable silence, towelling off their wet locks.

Taehyung was facing away from Jimin, staring at the wooden door that led out to the hallway, lost in his thoughts, when Jimin finished drying off. He stepped up behind the taller boy, wrapping his short arms around Tae’s middle. Both of them were still only wrapped in towels, not yet having gone to find clothes. Jimin’s firm chest pressed up against Taehyung’s slimmer frame, making the younger shiver.

“What’s on your mind, Taehyung-ie?”

Taehyung sniffles, making Jimin panic and move around him to get a better look at his face. Jimin’s emotive eyes search Taehyung’s brown orbs, looking for any sign of hurt, or pain, that he could help ease.

“I don’t even know her, Jimin-ie,” he clears his throat, a sore attempt and biting back the tears that threaten to fall, “b-but I feel so terrible.” Taehyung brings his hands up to his eyes, pushing the heel of his hands into his eye socket, willing away the onslaught of tears.

“Shh,” Jimin shushes his other half, wrapping both arms around his center and bringing him closer to his chest. Despite the height difference, Taehyung always felt small in Jimin’s arms. He wasn’t sure what to say to the tall boy right now. He was there in the facility with him, knew what he had gone through, watched with his own two eyes what those people are capable of.

The two of them have been best friends since middle school, having grown up in the same neighborhood, and have been inseparable ever since. Their likeness and similar genes had dubbed them ‘the twins’ since a young age, and they sometimes really did feel that way.

Jimin has always been the tougher one, the one to stand up in the face of prejudice, protecting his other half. Taehyung has always been the softer of the two, more trusting, sometimes to a fault. He was always the sweet one, the first one to make friends. They worked well together, and made up for where the other lacked. They made a perfect team, so it only made sense when they first confessed to the other.

That was over six years ago now, before they were found by Big Hit, before they learned the reality that is their DNA. The pair attended university together in their hometown, never suspecting they were any different from their natural born peers, until one day a representative from Big Hit approached them on campus, offering them a life of luxury. They were tricked into believing that if they sold their DNA, they would become rich. They could pay off their school debts, move away and buy a house, have the life they always dreamed of. It was appealing to them at the time, and only being twenty one years old, they fell for it.

They had been promised room and board and compensation for their time, which was initially only supposed to be three months. Once they left school and arrived in Seoul, they realized they were in over their heads. The first couple of months was decent enough. They shared a small, yet comfortable, room at the facility. They had access to a gym, a pool, and a rec room. They just had to make themselves available during the day for testing, and were fed a specific diet and mostly vegetable and protein to keep them healthy. It didn’t seem like such a bad tradeoff.

That was until their three month contract ended, and they were given an ultimatum: comply, and get to stay together, or try to leave and fight back, and they would be separated. Jimin was initially very combative, and did everything in his power to put a stop to it, but soon realized he cared more about Taehyung than he did his own freedom, so he eventually submitted to the doctors and scientists, and was allowed to keep living in his cramped room with his boyfriend.

The testing continued on both of them for about a year, until they realized that Taehyung was different. His DNA was more special, more in demand, than Jimin’s, and so they kicked Jimin out of the facility. He ended up living on the streets, only to be found and pulled back to Big Hit three months later after Taehyung suffered a mental break because of his boyfriend’s absence. And so, Jimin and Taehyung lived at the facility together for the last three years on and off.

While Jimin was absent, Taehyung had met Hoseok, another resident of Big Hit, and Hoseok fell for the young man, doing his best to protect him in his lover’s absence. When Jimin returned, the three of them ended up becoming inseparable, until Hoseok’s eventual release, and subsequent meeting with Namjoon which led to the twins' first breakout.

“Come, baby,” Jimin whispered to his boyfriend, pulling at his hand and leading him out of the bathroom. They made the short trip down the hallway to the room they had settled in with Hoseok. Said man was already waiting for them sitting on the edge of the bed, fresh clothes in a pile behind him.

When the younger two entered the room, Hoseok immediately stood from the bed and made his way towards the sniffling Taehyung. Jimin still had one arm around the boy, both naked save for the white towels wrapped around their waists. Hoseok reached out for both men, one hand on each of their hips as he led both of them towards the bed. Jimin left Tae’s side for a moment, grabbing the clothes and dressing quickly before handing over the soft t-shirt and boxers to Taehyung.

“T-thanks,” Tae muttered, keeping his eyes trained down, not wanting to see the worry etched across either of his lovers’ faces.

“What’s going on, Tae Tae?” Hoseok asked gently, not wanting to push the younger.

Jimin sat on the bed and scooted back so Taehyung could sit in front of him. Hoseok brought one leg up onto the mattress, turning his entire body towards Tae, giving him his full attention. The two on the bed watched as their once blue haired lover dressed and sat down with them.

“I- I don’t know, Hobi,” he squeaked out, rubbing a large hand over his entire face before letting both arms fall beside him, exasperated.

Jimin scooched towards him, wrapping his legs around him and kissing his shoulder, “It’s okay, Tae,” he whispered against his skin, “I know what you mean. We might not know her, but it’s obviously affecting Jin and Kookie, maybe even Yoongi. And I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you have more knowledge about what goes on in there than any of us.”

Hoseok nods along with Jimin’s words, knowing Tae has been very private about the things that happened to him behind closed doors at the facility. Even though both Jimin and Hoseok were with him in there, at least for some of the time, he never gave them details about what exactly happened to him and was only vague in his explanations. Jimin wishes that he would talk to him, but understands that he doesn’t want to relieve the things that were done to him. He’s witnessed his nightmares enough times to know it’s not worth it.

Hoseok brings a hand up to rub at Taehyung’s back, his shirt slightly wet and sticking to his broad shoulders. His eyes soften as he watches the youngest in the room bring his knees up to his chest and hug tightly, laying his head on the top of his knees. “This is silly,” he scoffs, “I don’t even know her.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” Hoseok starts, a frown marring his handsome face. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to finish his thought as risk of upsetting Taehyung even more, but decided to voice his thoughts after a look shared with Jimin, “Just because you don’t know her, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t care. Sh-she seems like a sweet girl, genuine. Jungkook and Seokjin really took a liking to her,” he bit his lip when Tae looked up at him through wet lashes, “and anyone who can make Yoongi think twice must be a keeper, right?” He tried to lighten the mood with his joke, but Taehyung’s frown only deepened.

It was Jimin who broke the silence next, “We will get her back, Tae, and then we’ll get to know her alongside the other guys. I know you guys didn’t have much time with her, but it seems like she’s got most of you wrapped around her finger.” Jimin smirks at the older man next to him, bumping his shoulder against his.

Hoseok smiles lightly, but it quickly turns into a lopsided frown at the reminder. He’s really the only one who hasn’t spoken to you in length. The most he ever spoke to you was when he woke you up last night. It felt like a lifetime ago already, even though it’s only been twenty four hours. Would he ever get a chance to know you better? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought, if not for himself, then for the others. He can’t deny the weird feeling he gets in his gut when he thinks about you, and he’s certain the others have a similar feeling if the soft eyes Yoongi gave you was any indication.

“How do you know?” Tae asked in a quiet voice, looking up at his hyung.

“Hmm?” Hoseok snaps his attention back to the younger, reminded of where he was, “How do I know what?”

“You said she’s a keeper.”

“O-oh. Well,” Hoseok started, pursing his lips as he thought carefully about his next words, “to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jungkook-ie so heartbroken. He’s obviously really affected by this, and you know him. He doesn’t warm up to people very quickly, so for him to be this torn up is really telling of his feelings. Jin-hyung, too.”

Taehyung and Jimin nod along with Hoseok’s words, having seen the duo earlier, any attempts at comforting them had been brushed off, the two only seeking out the other. They saw it, they saw the way the others seem to break at the thought of you being at Big Hit. They could tell you were something special, and Jimin was determined to make sure he got to learn first hand what exactly it was that made you so special to the others.

“We’re going to figure this out,” Jimin says to the others, to which Hoseok nods, “and you’re gonna help, right Tae Tae?”

Taehyung perks up, turning around to look at the blonde behind him, “Of course I will.”

Jimin gives him a soft smile, as Hoseok continues rubbing at his back and shoulders. “Let’s get to bed, hm?” Hoseok asks, standing up and gesturing towards the headboard. Both men nod, moving to get up as well.

Once the three of them are safely under the covers, Taehyung sandwiched between the other two, Jimin presses a kiss to the back of Tae’s head. Hoseok leans in and does the same to Tae’s cheek, making the youngest smile softly. “Goodnight, Tae.”

The younger two fall asleep rather quickly, having been spent from hiking all the way into town, but what Hoseok wouldn’t tell them is that he laid in bed until the early hours of the morning, listening to the soft sobs of Jungkook next door.

To be continued...

taglist: @mrsstilinski96 @sammiilynn10192 @minifruity @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz @chim-possible @kooksremedy @irishhbamb @sugashaye @lovelyseomin @strawberrygatorade @kookiebbyxx @itneverends15713

#bts x reader #poly bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut

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softlyjiminie · 4 years

Text

black swan | two.

⇢ pairing(s): professional dancer!park jimin x figure skater!reader.

⇢ word count: 4K.

⇢ rating: 16+, mature.

⇢ genre: angst, eventual smut, fluff, e2l, fake dating!au, corrupted idol!au, dancer!au, figure skater!au.

⇢ summary: a life of skating was all you’d ever known, your heart craving the feeling of ice beneath your feet and the light brush of cool air against your skin under thousands of sparkling lights… what a shame, if only you’d known that one night, one accident could rip you from the life you’d grown to love, leaving your career in the unsteady hands of the prince of ballet, park jimin.

⇢ warning(s): please read for this chapter! angst, taetae on the verge of tears, angry joon, soft jungkoo, yoongi cursing and emotional distress rip.

⇢ author’s note(s): hey everyone!! chapter two is finally here, im so sorry for the delay :( i had a run in with t*mblr and they were hiding all my works from tags! it should be okay now so i hope you like <3

⇢ previous | series masterlist | next

taehyung sits quietly as he watches the tea cup to your left, lose its steam— the heat fading like the light that usually emanated from you. eyes falling to his lap, the skater’s fingers curl in the paws of his— joon’s... black sweater as a guilty feeling settles in his chest. his fingers were itching to reach out and take hold of your hand, but taehyung knew that you would only push him away, locking yourself behind a door and falling away into an empty shell. part of him was glad that you wouldn’t let him touch you; in fear that he’d break you again just like that day on the ice, whilst the other half missed his best friend, whom he’d drown in his arms and fond touches. he missed his YN.

taehyung was grateful that namjoon didn’t mind your affectionate relationship, how tae’s large palm would settle on the small of your back or how his lips would brush against your cheek or your hairline. it was something that gave you both comfort, and namjoon understood that— after all you had been there for each other in the darkest of times while the man himself was studying in the US. nonetheless, taehyung was restless. he needed to know if you were okay, he needed to hold you to tell you it was going to be okay.

but you were too far gone in your own little world, trapped in your chair that was tucked away in a corner by your old fashioned TV (in which he’d begged you to replace because he hated the static noise it made on certain channels), watching old performances of yours on vhs from when you were younger— you’d switch to your laptop from time to time to watch more recent ones. the chair had become your safe space, since you refused to walk around on your new crutches, all motivation lost with the end of the skating season approaching.

taehyung was worried, really worried.

he knew you ate less, a tired grey tint to your skin casting a shadow over your usually glowing tones. he knew because he’d brought all the teas and pastries you loved to snack on, with each of them growing cold. “please eat baby,” the boy tries, quietly prompting you to take a bite of the cream puff he’d brought this time. “just a little.”

you tilted your gaze from the tv to your partner, irises dull and heavy with an unimaginable amount of sadness. the expression read no, causing taehyung to frown sadly but he perked up as your lips twitched in order to speak. “toe loop, ina beaur.” you whispered, as the latter’s eyes fell to the screen behind you where your younger self followed the streams of classical music into the moves that trickled from your drying lips.

your partner slumps in his seat, defeated and heartbroken as you turn back to the screen, solemnly. “please... just eat something YN. it’s been days since joon or i last saw you—“

your fist slams down on the table where your pastries sit, jolting the china teacup taehyung knows that you love. he lurches forward to steady it, although his heart beats rapidly and he flinches at your sudden actions. “would you eat?” your question burns at your lips with a dark poison that stings your friend. “would you eat if everything you knew and loved had been ripped from you because of one stupid accident? i don’t think so.” you know better than to scold tae and put the blame on him, but anger at the world and your situation burns brightly behind your logical senses—clouding you’re judgement. “what if all you could do is sit and watch, sit and watch, sit and watch until your mind went numb? could you focus? breathe? eat? sleep? no! so stop asking me and leave me alone.”

you regret your words as soon as they’re said, turning back to your tapes as tears brim in the corner of taehyung’s treacle eyes. he withdraws from you completely, dabbing at his eyes quickly to rid then of his salty tears as the front door to your apartment opens and closes. namjoon steps through, carrying rustling bags full of essentials that you might need. your friends have been good to you, so good but you can’t help but be mad, be sad and hurt.

your best friend stands abruptly to help his lover put away the groceries, tucking cans and jars away— while hiding his soft whimpers. but namjoon is not a fool, the elder can feel the thick cool settling over the room as he tilts his head towards taehyung. “are you okay, love?” the blonde asks lowly, tilting his gaze between yourself and his boyfriend, immediately sensing that something is wrong. “what happened?” he says louder this time— as if he’s trying to gain your attention too.

“nothing, baby—we...” tae whispers quietly, clenching his fists and unclenching them. he’d always hated conflict between three three of you, he was too sensitive whilst you and joon were head strong and stubborn. “it’s nothing...”

“are you crying?” the elder slices through taehyung’s words as smoothly as a butter knife— making you flinch in your seat at his rough tone. your coach was never one to get angry, his temper was often cool and calm but one poke of the wrong button would start something you didn’t want.

“n-no joonie-!”

“what did she say to you?”

guilt trembled in your grip, hating that you were the reason taehyung cried, the reason that namjoon was angry. for goodness sake, YN, you were friends and this is how you were treating them? joon mutters to the younger about packing up his things before turning his steaming attention to you. thick arms and firm palms sink into the arm rests of the chair, making your gaze turn to your lap. the thing about kim namjoon is that, in away, when you were in the wrong— he made you feel like a child for doing so. “this is the last straw, YN,” he scolds, running a hand through the thick of his dyed hair. “tae and i have tried to be there for you, tried to support you in this time but all you do is push us away.” the anger that bubbled in your chest before has faded to a dull sense of hurt, mad at yourself for paining your friends. “it’s been weeks and you haven’t attended a single physical therapy session, we’re afraid that if you don’t— you’ll never skate again. we all know that’s not what you want, YN. so get your shit together and we’ll be back when you do.”

taehyung appears in the doorway leading to your bedroom just as his boyfriend ends your lecture. you feel your own tears burn in the corner of your eyes at the ultimatum you’ve just been given but swallow them down as your best friend gives you a weak smile. namjoon makes a non-committal grunt, prompting his lover to scurry out of your now open, apartment door. “think about what i said,” he mumbles, tone much softer now.

they leave not long after, leaving you to think about your choices— just as the award ceremony appears on screen while younger you wins her first olympic medal.

there’s a quiet knock at your door, just two days later. part of you hopes it’s taehyung as you hop over on your crutches— but you know namjoon better than that, you won’t get to see them until your coach sees that you’ve made some improvement , he was pesky and annoying like that. you also know that it’s to give each other some time to get ready to apologise, you for upsetting tae and joon for being so harsh. your friendship had always worked like that.

“noona, are you there?” you recognise jungkook’s voice from the other side of the door, struggling to open it with just one hand while you use your other to cling onto your crutches. it’s been hard, but you’re slowly learning how to use them better, joon would get a kick out of it for sure. “noona— oh!” the cherry haired boy beams brightly as you swing the door open, a matching hue adding further warmth to his melanin rich skin. “you’re here.”

the younger skater is wearing a heavy, oversized sweater despite the warming spring breezes that carry cherry blossoms outside, and black combat pants and matching boots to complete his outfit— his signature large backpack hangs loosely over his shoulder as he stares down at you, being at least half a head taller than yourself. “kookie,” you breathe, hugging him instantly. his sweet, floral scent brings comfort to your racing heart almost instantly as you bury your face in his broad chest. “what are you doing here?”

chuckling quietly, jeongguk pushes you back into your apartment and closes the door behind you both, being careful not to knock you off your unsteady feet. once you’re inside, he fully wraps his arms around you and buries his nose into your neck— finding comfort in your own simple vanilla scent. yourself and the boy always had something unspoken flickering in the air between you, ever since he’d joined your company at seventeen (there was only a year between you both, and jungkook had been a novelty skater until then). your partner always joked that the boy was into older women, whilst you argued that you both admired each other or found one another’s presence highly comforting.

nonetheless, you would be a fool to say you hadn’t noticed how nicely jungkook had grown up since joining you at namjoon’s agency but you could never make your feelings known, not when you were both well known competitors.

“ah— well, namjoon hyung sent me. he said you’d need a fresh face to keep you company...” the younger mumbles, sending shivers down your spine at his proximity. being the sweetheart that he is, jungkook mistakes your shiver for something of pain and guides you to sit on your small fabric couch, pressing a shy kiss to your hairline with burning cheeks as he pulls away. “is it alright if i use your kitchen, i brought some ingredients to make us— i mean you... some dinner!”

“knock yourself out, kookie!”

he nods appreciatively, moving off to your kitchen as you turn back to your tapes, watching over more of your older performances. this time, it’s one from an event just before your first olympics— crisp in quality allowing you to see your skating more clearly. you remember the day that yourself and taehyung qualified for the south korean team, the joy you felt put into every competition since then but now you looked on them with a forlorn expression, wondering what you did wrong? were your movements sloppy? did you bring taehyung down? why did your legs look like that when you jumped?

jungkook fumbles with a frying pan not far from your left as he cooks the meat, a question passing from between his lips that you miss due to lost focus. “hm?” you blink once and turn to face the boy. “what was that?”

“i-i was just asking how you were!” jungkook stammers as his doe eyes catch yours, he blushes deeply, almost as red as his hair before his gaze drops to the broth he begins to serve for the two of you. “unless...of course... that’s a dumb thing to ask...” he bites his lip, dishing out a healthy portion of meat into either of your bowls as he makes the meal look presentable. jungkook places both of your bowls onto a tray before bringing it to your coffee table with a set of chopsticks. “forget i said anything, eat up!” he concludes, taking a seat by your side and handing you your meal.

you smile to yourself, scooping some of the noodles into your mouth and humming at the salty taste. “it’s fine kookoo,” you comment warmly, wiping at your mouth. “i’m just... feeling a bit out of place, not myself... you know?”

the boy only nods, falling silent in favour of watching a younger version of you skate across the ice on screen. the pair of you sit quietly for a while, nothing but the sounds of bowls and chopsticks clanking together, and ice on skates resonating throughout the room. “you’re triple axels were always my favourite,” jungkook whispers before your figure even tumbled into the move, piqueing your interest just a bit. “you were how i leaned to do them.”

“how did you know that was next, though?”

jungkook blushes, setting his dish on the coffee table and thumbing his knuckles shyly. your heart warms at the gesture, causing your smile to broaden. “i-i watched you at the olympics... i’d never taken skating seriously until then so i used your routines to get better, good enough to qualify at the same company as you...”

you fall into yet another silence after squeezing the boy’s hand appreciatively— the red hue to his cheeks only darkening. the cherry haired skater excuses himself to the bathroom and in that time you decide to clear up as a thank you to him for keeping you company. the kitchen is only a short walk, you only have two dishes to carry, it should be fine. except it’s not, like a baby giraffe you are still unsteady in your feet— taking steps without your crutches has proven to be difficult, especially with an armful of kitchenware. if you could just make it to the doorway, at least. at least then you’d know, you weren’t completely useless.

but your concentration slips as the unused muscles in your leg choose this moment to seize up and suddenly you’re falling to the ground. ceramic bowls clatter against your hardwood floor, smashing into pieces while you use your hands to brace for impact— one that doesn’t come. warm arms encircle your waist, jungkook having returned just in time to stop your fall, and pull you closely into his chest. you can feel your body tremble from fear, from anger at yourself for thinking you were even near ready for something like this— so you end up crying before you notice.

“noona, baby please don’t cry,” jungkook lets the pet name slip without realising, clearing the broken shards away with his foot as he sinks to the floor with you in his arms. “it was an accident... you weren’t ready yet...” he coos into your hairline, kissing it gently as he tugs you into his chest.

you feel suffocated, trapped at home and trapped in the mindset that you’ll never be a skater again but jungkook is jungkook, he knows you more than you might have let on— dressing you up to leave the house and taking you to the one place that might soothe you.

the rink.

jungkook’s sweater swaddles you to warmth as you watch him enter the rink from the stands. it’s eleven pm and you have no idea how he got the keys— especially when namjoon closes early on a sunday. your finger tips are cold so you slip them underneath the sleeves, tucking your nose under the collar of the black cotton fabric as it heats up your cheeks and remind you of what it’s like to be in koo’s arms.

he waves at you from down below and truth be told your heart stops for a second before the younger skates to the middle of the rink. you don’t even know how he managed to get the music playing and the lights set up just for him, but jungkook has always been good at everything so you don’t put it past him. the song you recognise as ‘wild’ by troye sivan fills the empty rink and the hairs on your skin prickle with familiarity— a song you had used in your first ever competition with taehyung. it shakes you a little, in a meaningful way, to know that jungkook went to the depths he did to learn from you and develop his own style of skating— one of gentle touches but locked down movements. he was everything and then some.

‘been a while since i’ve been a fool, for you...’

just as the high not ends, jungkook takes off, leaping into a perfected quadruple axel that you didn’t even know he’d learned to do. he loops four times in the air but lands a little shaky, they were a risky move and very rarely completed in competition but seeing that he’d taken your signature move and completed it better than your own abilities makes you smile. with a spark in his eye he mouths the words of the song to you ‘leave this blue neighbourhood, never thought loving could hurt this good,’ as he extends his right leg behind him and twirls across the ice.

this easily allows the boy to adjust his position into a camel spin, his legs parallel to the ice as he falls in tune with the lyrics before pivoting. you remember the routine and it’s every element, tracing them in your head as jungkook executes them perfectly right into the climax of the song, he’s perfect— maybe even better than you. nothing going wrong as he falls to the lower ice for a hydroblade, finger tips just brushing over its surface while he sweeps past.

‘you’re driving me wild, wild wild,” your mind drifts away with the music— convincing you that the younger skater is better than you, hes clean and sharp and— what do you have on him now? a pathetically broken leg with you unable to stand on two feet. you barely realise when the song ends and jungkook has made his way to middle of the rink to close because you’re too distracted with the emotions that clog your throat and tears that litter your galaxy eyes.

you cry, pathetically because what else is there to do.

the younger looks up from the ice, lose long sleeve shirt is littered with sweat from his exertion but he pays no mind as he noticed your tears. they shine under false light while jungkook kicks off his skates as fast as humanely possible because he hates the way your tiny body shakes as if you’re cold, he hates how your soft cheeks dampen and how you’re going without his hold for far too long. dashing up to the gallery with only socks to warm his feet, the young skater slides into the seat beside you— immediately pulling you into his heated embrace.

“baby,” he coos gently, cupping your head as you whimper into his neck. “please don’t cry, not anymore...”

you clutch at his shirt with the finger tips that peek through the sleeve of his jumper. “i can’t...it hurts not to be—be on the ice with you, that’s where I—“ you cut yourself off as a sob crawls from between your chapped lips, you crave the tight squeeze of leather skates on your feet and the cold beneath your arms, they would console you more where jungkook couldn’t.

throat burning with heartache, you nuzzle further into the boy and let him toy with your hair. “i think you should go to physical therapy noona,” jungkook whispers quietly, as though not to startle you. “you’re hurting not being out there, i see that...but if you don’t try and heal— you’ll never get back on your feet.”

jeongguk is annoyingly wise for someone just below your age, so you nod and lace your fingers with his— tracing over the small tattoos that paint his knuckles, silently agreeing to his plea. you let him drive you home that night, clinging to him as he carried you through the door of your apartment.

he doesn’t leave, sliding into bed with you as he holds you close— comforting you once again.

“son of a motherfucking bitch,” you mumble through gritted teeth, as you attempt to step back up and down from the false steps yoongi (your physical therapist) has set up for you. he’s more of a dance therapist than anything, but his exercises are well known in your industry for rehabilitating skaters and namjoon did say he would get you the best. the pain subsides fairly quickly, unlike the months prior when you had first started with yoongi but you’ve learned well and gotten better— even making up with your coach and best friend.

“yes ma’am?” yoongi answers from a whiles away, causing you to chuckle whilst deciding to sit down for a break. you wipe the sweat from your brow and take the bottle of water that your therapist hands to you, gulping it down to ease your ragged breathing. “you’re doing so much better than when you first came in.” you look to yoongi as he sits next to you, a short ish man (compared to jungkook, taehyung or namjoon) but still taller than you, with warm brown hair and honey eyes along with a gummy smile that makes your heart melt. he’s strict on you, but also caring in the smallest of ways— he knows your limits but when to push you too and has helped you make a pretty fast recovery. “you’re even laughing more.”

you push at his shoulder, watching the hair fly from yoongi’s face despite his bandanna. “i laughed before!” you defend yourself with a smile.

“barely! i’m just saying, that i’m proud of you YN-ah. i’m glad you came to me in the end, it’d be a shame to see such talent go to waste.” his voice is smooth, not as deep as tae’s but soothing enough, your smile still falters at his words while he locks and unlocks his fingers, staring at the ground.

“you make it sound as if you’re leaving me,”

yoongi looks up at you with a cheeky smile, but his eyes remain slightly dimmed. “well, technically i am...” he sees the confusion on your face as your brows push together. “an opening came up for a dancer who’s pretty big in the states and over here too, he’s korean so his fan base is large over here and—“

“but you can’t leave me!” you practically yell, shocking both yoongi and yourself— he couldn’t go just yet, not when you were so close. “i’m almost fully recovered and if you leave? a-all my progress could come undone and i’ll never get back on the ice, let alone back in time to train for the olympics!” you feel the familiar emotion of panic bubble in the pits of your stomach, tightly gripping onto yoongi’s wrist as if he’ll disappear into thin air.

the older boy puts a hand over yours, looking to you fondly. “you know that’s not what our end goal is, we want you back on the ice remember?” he reminds you calmly but you slip free from his grip anyways— feeling defeat settle heavily over your heart. if yoongi left now, there’d be nothing for you to work towards and no physician would compare to him. “besides, i already talked namjoon into letting me bring you with me...” you perk up at his words, eyes lighting up brightly at the thought of not being separated this far into your progress. “figure skating is like dance for the ice and your leg is strong enough for you to move on it in that kind of way...”

you figure yoongi is right, it’s not like you hadn’t danced— ballet lessons were almost necessary to become a figure skater, aiding with the grace and light movements you needed. if yoongi was offering you an opportunity to use dance to get back onto the ice, who were you to pass it up. dance therapy would advance her recovery much faster than your regular routine.

yoongi can tell your answer by the look of joy on your face. “so is that a yes? you’re coming with?”

“of course it is, asshole... you should’ve lead with that!” you scold him playfully, pushing the older boy with a roll of your eyes.

a feeling of hope settles, comfortingly amongst your bones— this could be it....

this could be exactly what you needed.

⇢ taglist ! ( comment, like or dm to be added! )

@periminkle @ggukkieland @aishots @ownthesunshine @codeinebelle @taeass @trviahope @singular-itae @preciouschimine @yoongismykink @idiakh @honeyspillings @kimsdior @chimshoe95 @cypherft-v @tangledsparkles -@ultraanonymousey @rjsmochii @thenoblr

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